Almost Perfect, Almost Yours
by BelleOfSummer
Summary: A pureblood family abducted Hermione when she was born due to their desperation for a daughter. In a world of beauty & wealth, she has become Draco Malfoy's dream girl.What will happen if he finally knows that her blood is not as pure as he thinks it is? *COMPLETE!*
1. The Garden

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

"**Almost Perfect, Almost Yours"**

Summary: A pureblood family abducted Hermione when she was born due to their desperation for a daughter. In a world of beauty & wealth, she has become Draco Malfoy's dream girl. What will happen if he finally knows that her blood is not as pure as he thinks it is?

**Chapter One**

**"The Garden"**

**Pucey Family Manor, England**

**Summer**

**1990**

Hermione smiled as she slowly opened the little fingers of the hand that protected her squinting eyes from the sun. She softly giggled as its beams danced across her freckled face. She could hear the angry voice of her mother calling her name, but she couldn't care less. She stifled a chuckle as she adjusted her weight on the tree's branch and hugged her newly-worn chiffon dress to her knees, further hiding herself from the screeching woman.

Earlier that day, she was told by her Nanny Demelza that her parents were expecting some very important guests.

Little Hermione always hated it when they had visitors. It only meant that she had to wear those huge fluffy dresses again, like today. It wasn't that she hated wearing them. They actually felt nice to touch, especially those silky ones. But then her mother had always pointed out that a real pureblood, like her, had the responsibility of wearing them _properly_.

She was expected to raise her chin up to a proper level, do a curtsy in the most delicate way, and always smile.

Sometimes, after hours of smiling, her cheeks would even hurt!

It was a pretty tedious job.

She was also expected to play the piano or sing for their guests while her brother, Adrian, would do nothing except eat with them.

It was very unfair to be in her position.

Sometimes, she even wished that she could be a boy like her brother. He even got to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and this house called "Slytherin" while she was expected to be fluent in French in preparation for her first year in southern France's Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

It was so far away from home that she was expected to stay with her Aunt Genevieve during holidays until she finished her schooling, and she would only go back home if she was required to.

Hermione felt like her mother just couldn't wait to get rid of her.

Nanny Demelza said, however, that her mother was only looking out for her own good and Aunt Genevieve would teach and train her to be a perfect lady of the Pucey family.

Her mother had always said that Hermione was destined to give their family a great honor someday. All she had to do was grow into a beautiful, engaging lady.

Hermione didn't understand this, of course.

How could she give them a great honor by simply being pretty and entertaining?

But she would do it anyway.

She had no other choice.

She might be a little rebellious at times, but all that she really wanted was her mother's love and approval.

She had always craved her love, but for some reason, she just couldn't get it.

Her only comfort was the hope that maybe Aunt Genevieve could give her that.

Her father and brother told her that she didn't need to worry about being away from home because they would visit and see her there anyway.

She just hoped Adrian would keep his word and wouldn't forget her entirely while he was enjoying his time at his wonderful school.

Adrian always told her that they had more fun at Hogwarts than any of the other Wizarding Schools in the world. He was even given a new broom when he expressed an interest on Quidditch. Adrian was planning on trying out for the Quidditch team when he went back to Hogwarts after the summer.

Once, she had asked her father to buy her a broom too, saying that she also wanted to learn how to fly before entering school so she could play Quidditch. But her father had simply laughed amusedly and told her that she was a girl and there was no way her mother was going to let her do a ridiculously unladylike act like play Quidditch.

Lady Petrova Pucey was a _very_ strict woman.

She was a perfectionist, too.

She didn't like to see any flaws or imperfections in anything, most especially in her daughter.

On one occasion, she had even personally magically shrunk Hermione's large front teeth, afraid that they might not end up the perfect size if she let anyone do it instead.

She wasn't as gentle and caring as her husband. She was quite the opposite, actually.

She would punish Hermione by locking her up inside her room for the whole day if she got on her nerves.

But she had never physically hurt her.

Hermione thought it was only because she was afraid of leaving a mark on her skin if she did, and that just wouldn't do, would it?

It would endanger the family's honor.

She would often tell Hermione that a woman's beauty was her power.

Hermione didn't understand this. She supposed she was talking about her magical powers or maybe about the family's honor again, but she wasn't sure.

It was a good thing that her father and brother always defended her whenever her mother would go overboard.

Adrian would even defend her when their mother was going to punish her again for scratching up her knees or for ruining another dress. Hermione could never see why she needed to be punished for accidentally hurting herself. Her mother had those really expensive potions to get rid of most scars and blemishes, after all, so she didn't really have to punish her, right?

But she would anyway.

Sometimes, Hermione even heard her parents fight because her father was defending her.

Hermione loved her father so much.

But he looked nothing like her…

They said she got her looks from her mother because she was beautiful, but sometimes, Hermione just couldn't see any similarity at all.

She had brown curly hair while her mother's was straight and black. Her eyes were hazel brown in color while her mother had emerald ones.

Nanny Demelza said it was just because she was still very young and when she grew up she would look exactly like her mother.

Hermione often wondered why Adrian had their father's shifty grey eyes, black hair and looked so much like him even though he, too, was still very young.

She supposed girls grew up very differently.

That's why she hated being one.

Just like today.

"Come out wherever you're hiding, you little scoundrel! It's not funny anymore! Our guests are very important! If you don't come out right now, I'll be placing you inside your closet for a week!" Her mother threatened her angrily. Hermione could tell that she was livid now as her hands were already on her hips and the veins were visible under her creamy skin.

Hermione gulped and scooted further into the branches of the tree, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

She really wanted to show herself now before it got worse, but she just couldn't.

She'd get punished after entertaining the visitors, anyway.

She'd rather stay in the tree and not waste her time if that was the case.

"Have you found Mione yet?" Her brother suddenly emerged from the house. He was wearing his new robes, looking quite impatient for the visitors to arrive.

"This is insane! That girl has no manners at all! Where did I go wrong in raising her? I can't wait to send her to Genevieve so she can properly tame her," Lady Petrova growled outrageously.

"Mother, I'm sure Mione is just—" Adrian suddenly stopped as he met Hermione's shocked and nervous face. Her feet were dangling just meters above their mother's head.

"What is it?" Lady Petrova asked while turning around to see what her son was looking at

"N-Nothing, Mother… I just thought I've seen a gnome," Adrian lied, trying to turn his mother's attention from the tree that held his little roguish sister.

"A gnome? I thought the gardener took care of that problem! Our visitors are going to stay here for two weeks, for goodness' sake!" Lady Petrova shouted angrily, placing a hand on her chest as if she was going to have a heart attack.

Little Hermione bit her lower lip and grinned when her mother walked away and went inside the manor. She looked so mad as she ranted on about how this day couldn't get any worse, making Hermione giggle. Hermione was even sure Lady Petrova's face was trembling and scrunching up so much that she looked too funny to even be considered scary, although the woman really was.

Her brother gave her a warning, heated look while Hermione just beautifully smiled back at him and mouthed a soundless "thank you". Adrian sighed and turned to follow their raging mother.

Smiling beautifully and innocently had always worked for her, anyway.

Oh, how she just loved her brother…

Maybe beauty was the power of a girl after all.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was bored.

In fact, he was so bored that he felt like throwing the golden ashtray in front of him.

His father would surely be livid and would punish him for it but it would be so much better than being invisible.

He was expected to be prim and proper for the whole two weeks of their boring summer vacation becuase they were staying in this house to discuss some of their family business.

He hated it when he had to go along and act as if he was the product of the most wonderful family when in fact it was extremely the opposite.

"Ah… Petrova, it has been quite a while," Narcissa beamed happily when the lady of the house entered the great hall, cutting off the endless discussion of his father and Mr. Pucey.

Mr. Pucey's wife looked well refined and aristocratic just like his mother. Beside the lady was a boy, about his age and maybe just a little older.

The boy smiled at him in a friendly gesture, but little Draco just glared back and stood straight in order to compensate for their height difference.

He was a very competitive boy, and having an older and taller boy next to him just wouldn't do, would it?

"And who is this lovely young man?" The lady named Petrova squealed at him in delight. Her voice was too sweet. It made him feel sick.

"This is my only son, Draco. Say hello, Draco," Lady Narcissa urged him while gently pushing him forward to the lady.

"Hello," he muttered unwillingly.

"Oh, such a darling, isn't he? Well, this is my son, Adrian. You two are going to be really great friends," Lady Petrova smiled, pushing her own son towards Draco.

Draco thought it was plain stupid and fake.

His mother had a lot of friends but she always talked badly about them behind their backs. She could detect even the smallest of flaws in them and make them all a big deal so that she could brag about her superiority to others. He had even overheard her talking to one of her friends that they were doing business with the Pucey family just because she was a charitable being and she felt quite sorry for her long-time friend.

She said that the Puceys were nearing bankruptcy and all that they had now was their great name and status inside the wizarding society.

"My Adrian just started attending Hogwarts last year. He's in the Slytherin house. He's going to try out for the house team this school year. He's pretty good at Quidditch, you know," Lady Petrova suddenly mentioned.

"Oh how wonderful! My Draco is pretty good at the game too. He's been flying since he was four…"

Draco internally grunted since he knew he was going to witness an endless session of conceited talks again. Even his father had transformed into his arrogant expression and scooted nearer to boast that he was the one who had taught Draco about the game… leaving out the small details of nonstop beatings whenever he couldn't shoot a goal, of course.

He looked sideways to stare at the beautiful view outside the huge arched glass door of the foyer instead. The garden was pretty luxurious and he could see how vast the place was.

Though he knew it was nothing compared to their manor, it was still very refined and the different textures and hues of the place had mesmerized him.

He suddenly wanted to go outside.

He watched his parents cautiously.

They were now boasting about their wide estates and properties…

Good.

He gave Adrian small warning stares; just confident and daunting enough to make him shut up before Draco could sneak out.

Slowly and carefully, he took a few steps to the door and gently slid it open so his little form could slip outside without anyone noticing it.

Adrian never said anything but never stopped looking at him. He was probably jealous and wary of the fact that he needed to stay and listen to the exaggerated stories of the adults while Draco could run off and play.

Draco smirked at him through the glass door when he was finally outside, then in a blink second… he was free.

He always got what he wanted because he wasn't a coward.

That Adrian boy was just too wimpy to be like him.

He tried to whistle and hopped a little, feeling like a freed prisoner as he casually picked a daffodil and placed it inside his pocket.

He then picked a few more and threw them away, just because he could.

He squinted further to see the variety of flowers and grassy mounds that surrounded the grounds.

He leaped up onto the stoned stairs to see a nearby pond that gurgled soothingly, adding a good ambiance to the place. He smirked when he saw the colorful fishes just beneath the surface.

"It's quite boring in here, huh?" Draco sneered at the little wiggling koi carp. "Well, let's add a little adventure to your uninteresting, dreary life, shall we?" He added as he dipped a finger into the pond. The carps instantly swam towards his finger, thinking they were about to get fed. "Stupid creatures," he murmured before he caught one of the carps by its tail with his other hand. The carp wiggled in his grip, looking tormented, but he just laughed.

"Stop it! You're torturing it!"

Draco looked around and saw two hazel brown eyes staring at him angrily.

Right then, Draco Malfoy knew he would never forget this day.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Thanks to my beta readers: ****MissElizabeth12 and EchoDeltaNine!**

**Adrian Pucey is a minor character in HP. He first started attending Hogwarts for the school year 1989-1990. He's in Slytherin and played the role of a Chaser. I always thought the actor that played him was quite cute so I chose him, besides the fact that he has very little background information. Because of this, I needed to write some added original characters such as Lady Petrova, Nanny Demelza and Aunt Genevieve.**

**I've always wanted to write this and I have some really exciting scenes in mind. :) It haunted me to no end and I just REALLY needed to write it, so tell me what you guys think, okay?**

**Can I get a little favor and a small review from you? Thank you.**

**A blessed day to all!**

**Sue**


	2. Daffodil

******Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Almost Perfect, Almost Yours **

**Chapter Two**

**"Daffodil"**

* * *

_**He loves me, he loves me not**_

_**She loves me, she loves me not**_

* * *

Draco was so taken aback that he had suddenly let go of the fish he was currently holding, making it plunge into the water and scurry away as fast as possible.

"Were you trying to kill it?" the girl asked as she went nearer and looked over the fish, making sure that all of them were okay.

She was wearing a huge white chiffon dress and looked really pretty, he noted.

"Yes," he replied, just to see her reaction to that.

She looked mad at first, and then started looking at him quite pensively for a while. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "No, you weren't," she suddenly said in a matter-of-fact manor.

"How would you know?" Draco frowned.

"Because Nanny Demelza said that if a bad person did something wrong, he'll never admit it to anyone else. If a good person tries to be bad, he'll try to let other people see that he did something wrong even if he didn't in the first place. So I guess you're just a good person trying to be bad. Although I haven't really figured out why," she explained confidently to him while sitting on the pond's stony edge. "I'm Hermione Pucey by the way, and you are?"

"D-Draco Malfoy?" Draco answered, still frowning and looking confused to what she just said.

"Are you trying to hide from your parents too?" Hermione suddenly jumped off of the stone and scooted over to whisper at him, making him step back a little because of their sudden close proximity. He wasn't used to any of that and he could feel his cheeks getting a little warmer.

"Are you trying to be a seer?" He scowled at her.

"I'm right then!" she exclaimed excitedly, until she suddenly clasped a hand on her mouth, looking like she just made a big mistake by shouting. "Let's go," she urgently whispered while unabashedly taking his hand and pulling him with her.

Draco couldn't do anything but just walk with her and stare awkwardly at their joined hands. Their hands together were quite sweaty but it seemed that she didn't notice it at all as she continued to walk nearer into some garden shrubs adorned with little tubular scarlet flowers borne in cymes.

"Mother's garden has all the flowers in the world."

She smiled at him before picking a dense rounded cluster of the little red flowers from the ornamental shrub. Slowly and carefully, she then plucked one of the blossoms. She pulled the tiny little red stem with nectar inside and sipped on it gently. Little Draco stared at her, frowning in curiosity.

"Here, have some," Hermione invited as she plucked another little flower among the cluster. She selected one of its stem which was filled with drops of nectar and offered it to him.

Draco hesitated for a while, but then realized he was too curious and his interest was too piqued not to try what she did. And so he slowly bent his head down to meet the little stem of nectar she was offering at him to sip at it.

It tasted sugary and sweet.

He suddenly found himself smiling a little.

"You like it, don't you?" She beamed at him. Her tiny freckles shone with the sun. "It can make you immortal, you know," she whispered at him seriously. "It's a beverage of the gods, though I'm yet to discover how to get some of their ambrosia. Tantalus must be a really clever person to have stolen one from them. I don't want to be like him though. Nanny Demelza said stealing is a very serious offense. Tantalus was greatly punished for that crime. He'd been forever hungry and thirsty after that," she told him.

Draco realized she was talking about Tantalus from a Greek Mythology story. "You read too much," he replied while plucking another blossom and repeating the process she had just done a while ago. It was quite fun.

"I do!" She nodded and smiled. "Don't you?"

"I think it's boring." He shrugged and sat on one of the logged benches of the place.

"How can travelling to one place and another be boring?"

"You don't travel when you read. You sit and stare at some words and understand them. Mother makes me do it all the time and I always need to report everything that I've read after. It's boring," he expressed simply.

"Nanny Demelza makes me report too," Hermione mused. "But she does it differently. She makes me act and dance and sing about it," she uttered as she stood up to gracefully turn around along the dancing beams of the sun. Her dress flowed rhythmically with the breeze." She said that when you read, you travel a lot, except that you leave your body behind and fly with your soul. It's safer than actually travelling, you know."

Draco had to purse his lips and look down, annoyed by the fact that he seemed to be a little… shy all of a sudden.

"Are you staying here for a little longer?" she asked as she sat down next to him, making him move away a little. "It'll be nice if you do. I'll show you some of my hiding places when we play hide and seek with Adrian and Nanny Demelza, because I like you," she said, grinning toothily at him.

Draco looked surprise to what she just said, but tried to hide it so she wouldn't see.

"Here," he finally muttered after a long silence. He got the ruffled daffodil he had placed inside his pocket earlier and shoved it toward her, not staring back and looking straight at the ground.

"For me?"

"Don't be stupid. Of course it's for you," he grumbled while thrusting the daffodil further into her chest.

"Thank you." She smiled softly as she accepted his little gift. The daffodil looked a little mashed and it fluttered and bent lowly in front of her.

"It got squashed inside my pocket," Draco explained. His once pale cheeks looked damp with crimson kisses now. He had never willingly given anything to anyone before. He didn't even know why he did it. He just felt like he should because… she was too pretty.

"Tag!" Hermione suddenly tapped him on the shoulder and laughed while running just meters away from him. "Come on! You're it!" she shouted playfully at him.

She shrieked when Draco suddenly jumped out from the logged bench to run and catch her. A tender waft was playfully hitting little Draco's cheeks as he sprinted over to catch his new playmate.

He had never felt as happy and as free as this.

He'd always been alone at home and whenever he would meet other children his age, he'd often just get into a fight due to his competitiveness. One time he had even pushed this kid, named Blaise Zabini, into the cake table during one of their gatherings at the manor. It had caused a huge fiasco in the place. His mother had been so furious at him that he ended up starving and cold inside the attic for the whole night.

"Aw!"

He suddenly ran as fast as he could to see Hermione lying with her front on the ground. She seemed to have tripped and hurt herself.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly while examining the newly formed scratches on her knees.

"P-Please don't tell Mother," she sniffed, trying her best not to cry. The corners of her mouth were trembling and some streaks of stubborn tears were starting to stream down her cheeks; however, Draco could tell just how much she was trying so hard to stop them.

"But you're hurt," he told her anxiously.

In some utterly strange way, he suddenly felt very protective of her.

"Just p-please don't tell her… Please don't—"

"Hermione!"

Both looked around to see their families, walking worriedly towards them. Lady Petrova looked too angry. It was as if her eyes were about to pop out as she went nearer to her daughter and saw what had just happened. Hermione sobbed when her mother uncaringly caught her arm and callously hauled her to stand up. Draco noticed that Adrian tried to stop their mother but she just gripped Hermione's arm even tighter, making her cry even more.

"It's an accident! It's not her fault! You don't have the right to get mad at her!" Draco suddenly found himself talking directly to Lady Petrova.

"Draco! Show some respect," Lady Narcissa reprimanded him, looking quite outraged by her son's behavior.

For a second, Lady Petrova turned to look at the little boy to study the scene before her. She then acknowledged the little rumpled daffodil on her crying daughter's closed and tensed hand. She looked contemplative for a while, until her rough actions suddenly subdued. She even unexpectedly kissed her daughter sympathetically on the cheek.

"Of course it's not her fault, dear," Lady Petrova told him sweetly. Draco hated her voice. "I'm just so worried for my little baby. Come, Hermione. Let's get you healed and it'll all be okay," she added while gently pulling her daughter into her embrace.

Hermione looked confused and was still sobbing, but she nodded anyway and let her mother pull her closer and walk her into the mansion.

Little Draco stood rooted on his spot and stared at Hermione's retreating form.

When she looked back and smiled shyly at him behind her mother's skirt, he found himself smiling back…

* * *

**A/N: :) :) :)**

**When I was younger, I tasted sweet nectar from Santan (Flame of the Woods) flowers with my friends and then sometimes we'd also make little necklaces out of them. It was such a fond memory. Whenever I remember it, I always have this grin in my face. In my place, your childhood won't ever be complete without this experience so I wanted to share this little familiarity with everyone. There was also a time in which I believed that I can be immortal if I did drink some nectar. It was foolish, yes, but sometimes, the most foolish things could give you the fondest of memories. :)**

**I'm enjoying the little Draco and Hermione too much! Argh! There is more to come, however, and I'm so excited when they'd finally grow up. :)**

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews! Can I have some for this chapter too? :D**

**Many thanks to ****MissElizabeth12 and **rachylynxx who are my beta readers for this chapter!

**God bless and sweet kisses!**

**Sue**


	3. Pinky Swear

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Three**

**"****Pinky Swear"**

* * *

_**"In summer, the song sings itself." **_

_**-W.C. Williams**_

* * *

"Nanny Demelza? Why isn't Mother mad at me?" Hermione frowned at the reflection of the middle aged woman who was currently combing her hair tenderly.

The sweet smell of roses and perfume oils was bracing her senses and making her lean indulgently and contentedly to the warmth of her guardian.

Nanny Demelza had always been Hermione's confidant in this enormous mansion. Whenever she'd get hurt or be in trouble, Nanny Demelza would always see to it that she was okay. Sometimes, she would even get in trouble from Lady Petrova for slipping some food for Hermione whenever she was being punished and locked up inside her closet. Sometimes, the older lady would even stay with her just outside and reassure her that she wasn't alone so she would stop crying. In those times, she would often ask Hermione to sing with her.

Little Hermione loved to sing.

So, though still weeping, she would do it anyway. And just like magic, she'd feel alright again… and braver.

Nanny Demelza would also hold her during the times she would cry nonstop whenever she'd have nightmares in the middle of the night. She would then read her some bedtime stories, Greek Mythology was her favourite. She also got to have some extra midnight cookies. It was their little midnight secret.

Her mother had strongly forbidden the elves to give her anything after dinner. She said it would make her get used to it until she'd grow older, and it would ruin her shape… whatever that meant.

Sometimes, she couldn't really understand why her mother was too strict on her but not so with Adrian. Nanny Demelza said it was just because she was a girl, and that her mother just wanted to protect her.

But she didn't want any protection…

She just wanted her love.

"You were hurt pretty badly, my darling. I suppose she's just too worried of you to have the time to get mad," Nanny Demelza smiled reassuringly at her while she continued to brush her shiny curls carefully, making sure to place the right amount of potion to tame it. The young girl had naturally quite a frizzy hair and Lady Petrova insisted that Nanny Demelza should have a proper routine for its care every night.

"But she always gets mad at me. It's just weird that she didn't punish me a while ago," Hermione frowned, and had then gulped and looked a little scared all of a sudden. "You don't suppose she's postponing my punishment because we have visitors, do you? Maybe she's going to double my punishment after they'll go! Help me, Nanny Demelza… Please," Hermione pleaded as she jumped from her seat and abruptly hugged the older lady.

"Oh, my dear darling... It's not like that at all. Maybe she—"

"Maybe I'm not really angry at all."

Hermione's eyes bulged in fear and panic before she scampered away from her nursemaid and went dutifully towards her mother.

"H-Hello Mother," she greeted, pursing her lips in nervousness before tiptoeing to kiss her when she bent down and sat in front of the huge traditional dresser.

"Come," Lady Petrova beckoned her to sit on her lap and the little girl did so, moving as graciously and cautiously as possible.

"Demelza?"

"Yes, my lady," Nanny Demelza bowed down amiably before walking out of the room and slowly closing the door.

"Now, honey… Why don't you tell me what you did this day with your new friend? Hmm?" Petrova asked her daughter while gently stroking her hair, making her relax a bit knowing that she wasn't going to be punished.

Her mother's fingers were long and beautiful and softer…

Hermione smiled at her mother's reflection at the mirror.

She liked it when she's this way.

She liked the feeling of being close to her mother. She smelt of Jasmine oil and peppermint.

Little Hermione loved her smell.

"You're beautiful, Mother," she couldn't help but say it. It was her dream to be as beautiful as her mother.

"Now, now, Hermione. Didn't I tell you that it's rude not to answer when you're being asked?" Her mother reprimanded her while giving her waist a gentle squeeze, but never leaving her other hand on her hair.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Hermione apologised and smiled when her mother nodded and just kissed her tenderly.

These moments were very rare. She'd usually kiss her when she was in a really good mood or when she needed to.

Little Hermione would give _anything_ for it.

"I really like my new friend, Mother," she started speaking, knowing too well not to ruin her mother's mood.

"Tell me about him. How did you two meet? What about the little flower? Did he give it to you?" Her mother uttered as she continued on stroking her hair quite speedily now. Her eyes were sparkling in excitement and elation, but somehow, Hermione found them quite scary.

"Draco's really nice. He's so much fun too and I really like him," Hermione smiled at her mother, though looking quite confused from her sudden enthusiasm.

"That's my girl!" Lady Petrova happily kissed her again and retrieved the brush which was lying on the dresser and started combing her long shiny curls. "Draco Malfoy is the only heir of the Malfoys. Do you know what that means? You just befriended the only heir of one of the richest and ancient pureblood families in the wizardry world. I want you to be really good friends with him, do you hear me?"

"But we're already good friends, Mother. And he's my friend not because of that. He's my friend because he's really nice to me," Hermione explained while frowning at her mother's smirking reflection at the mirror.

"No matter," her mother just shrugged. "Just stay as lovely as you are now. When you go to Beauxbatons and be under my sister's care, you'll be the most stunning woman this world will ever see. Pureblood men will practically throw their possessions and estates just to be with you. But of course, you will choose the best. I can see it now, my darling. I was never wrong. Even now, you already have a very good taste. You are this family's little angel. Your father had been an idiot for gambling almost all our possessions and letting us suffer from these endless debts. But all of these disgrace and shame will end soon because of you. You're _my_ angel," her mother beamed and gently pushed her little girl's chin up so she could look at herself in the mirror.

"I don't understand, Mother," Hermione frowned at the reflection of the confused freckled little girl looking back at her. "Is this about my powers for being a girl again?"

"Someday, you will see. Someday you will understand the road I have prepared for you. You will look in front of the mirror and smile at your beauty. Pureblood women will envy you because their men will practically kneel in front of you. You are the hope of this family, Hermione. Someday you will see and understand…"

* * *

"It's okay, Draco. You did well," Hermione said as she patted her sagging friend's back.

Little Draco was boring holes at the back of Adrian's head while having his fists tightly closed, making his knuckles paler than the usual.

Earlier that day, Lucius Malfoy and Ansleigh Pucey decided to let their sons compete with each other to have some entertainment for a while. Besides of talking about their joint businesses, they'd also been very engrossed of comparing their sons' Quidditch skills. Ansleigh had always been proud and very impressed of his son's flying ability. He'd always believed that Adrian was the best Quidditch player of his age. Lucius, however, would have none of it. He was prepared to show his friend that his son was the best in everything; and though Draco was two years younger than Adrian, he knew that he could still beat him any time.

It was then when Lucius had an idea of letting their sons compete against each other. Just minutes later, Adrian and Draco were then hovered above the field with their brooms, looking as focused as they'd ever been; both wanting to win just to make their families proud as they watched interestingly at the sides.

Hermione wanted to cheer for her brother at first. But her mother asked her to cheer for both instead. She said it was rude to her new friend and their visitors if she did so.

The game was absolutely thrilling and enjoyable. The Pucey Family had an adequately wide field for a Quidditch pitch. When Adrian showed a great deal of interest at the game, his father was so thrilled that he had suddenly asked his subjects to send him some workers to make a good, sufficient oval-shaped playing field for him. By the end of the week, the marking lines for the central circle and mid-field, and also the hooped goal posts were done. Since then, there wasn't a day that Adrian didn't play Quidditch.

Seeing as they only had their sons as players, they decided to mix the game up a little. Adrian and Draco then acted as Centre Chasers and Keepers. The only ball in played was the Quaffle. They could score goals for themselves and could intercept the Quaffle from shooting inside their goal hoops at the same time. Since there was no Seeker, the game was properly timed by an hourglass, being guarded by Narcissa, Petrova and little Hermione.

It had almost been a draw, seeing how good the two kids were. But in the end, Adrian won with only ten points. If the Quaffle Draco had thrown hadn't been about five seconds later, he could have had made it to the overtime.

"That was a fun game, isn't it? How about we all head for the courtyard for some snacks?" Lady Petrova smiled gleefully at the group, seemingly unaware of Narcissa's worried expression on her husband's deathly glare towards his son.

"Come with me," Draco suddenly whispered at Hermione's ear while gently tugging on her hand. She noticed that he seemed distraught and a little disconcerted.

"Why?" Hermione asked but let him guide her, anyway.

"Just _because_, that's why," he replied haughtily while still stirring her away from their families.

Hermione just frowned and whined a little, but had then dutifully walked with him, anyway. She looked around while doing so, however, checking if they were about to be reprimanded for not following back but all that she saw was her mother's satisfied smirk.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked by the time they had gone nearer to the pond where they first met.

"Don't you want to play?" Draco asked her.

"I do, but we're supposed to be having snacks now. And we can play later, together with Adrian," she replied as she sat down on the stony edges of the pond and dipped her fingers near a water lily.

"I don't want him to play with us," Draco simply stated, looking quite annoyed now.

"Why?"

"Because he's stupid," he countered back.

"Adrian is not stupid," Hermione frowned at him.

"He's stupid," Draco scorned while crossing his arms, as if daring her to oppose him.

"He's not stupid! Take it back!" Hermione finally stood up and faced him, looking quite irritated that he was insulting her brother.

"Oh yeah? You go to him, then! But you can't be my friend anymore if you do," Draco looked positively fuming now, although he looked a little gloomy and disturbed too.

"Why can't we all just be friends?" Hermione pouted frustratingly as she looked down, her lips seemed to tremble in agitation.

"Because I want to be your _only_ friend. I want you to play with me, _alone_. That's why," Draco answered as he now caringly brushed off the single leaf that had carelessly landed on her hair.

"But it's so much better if we'll have a lot of friends, Draco," she told him while she looked at him when he awkwardly but gently held her hand.

"Aren't you happy to be friends with me? Don't you want to be friends with me?" He asked, suddenly sounding quite unsure and a little worried.

"Of course I'm happy to be your friend, Draco. But you can't just be my only friend, you know," Hermione sighed heavily, looking quite exhausted as if she was trying to say something to a deaf person.

"But I don't want you to have any other friends but me," Draco insisted stubbornly.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Why?"

"_Because_! That's why!"

"You can't do that! And if I can't be friends with Adrian just because you said so, then I'd rather stop being friends with you! You're mean!" Hermione uttered while pointing an accusatory finger at him. She took her other hand off of him and stomped her foot while she walked away.

Draco was left sitting with the little carps again, but in some way, he didn't want to hurt them anymore.

* * *

Hermione gulped nervously while fidgeting with the hem of her nightdress as she stared at the huge antique door in front of her.

She couldn't sleep so she had to sneak out of her room and find Draco's chamber.

Their last confrontation wouldn't let her sleep at all. She knew that she wasn't the one at fault but she just felt really guilty of shouting at him and leaving him there.

She sometimes had fights with Adrian too, but they were usually over some petty things and they would often work everything out just minutes or so.

Draco's case was just too different.

It was different because… just _because_.

She bit her lower lip when she finally knocked three times before slowly opening the large door.

Her mother said it was very rude to just budge inside a room without knocking thrice.

The handle was inches above her head and the large door creaked eerily when she slowly opened it. "Draco? Are you asleep?" She uttered nervously while stepping inside and holding an overlarge oil lamp in contrast with her little hand.

She looked over his bed and saw that he was behind the blankets, stirring a little.

"I'm sorry for earlier," she spoke softly while ushering nearer to him and placing the oil lamp on the writing table just beside his bed.

He neither answered back nor did he get out of the blankets that he was hiding.

"I said I'm sorry, Draco. Can we be friends again? Please?" Hermione spoke again, now sitting at the edge of the huge canopy bed and smoothing the thick decorative fabric draped across the posts.

She just heard nothing but a little muffled sound.

"Draco! Come on! Please talk to me," she whined while trying to pull the large bulky blankets out of him, but he just wouldn't budge as he also tugged on the blankets so he could stay hidden.

"Dracooo!" Hermione grunted as she now stood up and placed all her strength in pulling the blankets out of him.

For seconds, both seemed to have a really great struggle of tug of war, until Hermione's hand had suddenly slipped from the rim of the blanket. She ended up howling in pain when her bottom collided brutally on the floor.

"Hermione! Are you alright?" Draco finally got out of his blankets and jumped out of the bed to make sure she was okay.

Hermione gasped when she finally looked up and saw why he wouldn't get out of the blankets.

"W-What happened to you?" She asked worriedly when he helped her stand up.

"This is nothing," he muttered as he looked down and tried to hide the bruises on his face; quite thankful for the dimmed surroundings and his pyjamas that covered all the other bruises on his back and arms. "Father will heal this tomorrow morning, anyway."

"Why won't he heal it _now_? You're hurt and you can't possibly sleep with that," she told him worriedly while holding his hand.

It seemed so natural for her to hold his hand.

He liked it when she did that.

"It's my punishment for losing to your stupid brother," he said, pursing his lips while looking down.

"Mr. Malfoy did this to you?" Hermione clasped a hand on her mouth, looking a little shocked that his own father would beat him.

"I'm used to it," he just shrugged as he sat on his bed. Hermione followed him and he scooted a little so she could sit next to him.

They sat still for quite some time, with their hands snugly held together.

"We're friends now again, aren't we?" Hermione suddenly said softly while she looked at him.

"I guess so," Draco answered while tightening his grip on her hand. "Are you going to stay here with me? The whole night?"

"I'm too scared to get out again. I might get caught," she replied, making him smile a little.

"I have some books I brought with me. I haven't read them yet. Mother said I should bring them with me and so I can read them and report to her when we go back home. She said I shouldn't waste my time playing too much," Draco told her. "We can read them together," he added while he tried to smile at her, until he realised it hurt a little to stretch his lips that way.

"I just remembered," Hermione suddenly said as she jumped out of the bed.

Draco felt a little twinge of loneliness when he felt her hand slip out.

"We always keep some healing potions inside each room," she told him as she scrambled for something in the room's cupboard.

"You can't heal me. Father will get mad if he sees that my bruises are gone," Draco warned her as he went nearer and crouched down next to her.

"We have some salves too rather than the potions. It can at least lessen the pain," she proposed and took a vial with ointment inside. "Are these your only bruises?" She asked when she tried to touch Draco's face but thought better of it when he flinched a little.

"Yes, it is," he lied.

"Come on, then. I'm going to—" Hermione stopped when he suddenly cringed again when she touched his arm. "I thought so," she just nodded knowingly.

Minutes later, Draco found himself feeling sticky with salves but sighing comfortably with his front on the bed; the aching on his back had somehow subsided. The minty feel of the ointment felt good that he couldn't help but sigh and smile a little.

"Will you stay with me?" He asked while squeezing her tiny hand gently.

Hermione beamed at him and nodded.

"Promise?" Draco murmured, looking like a sluggish puppy on his naptime.

"Pinky swear," Hermione beamed as she held her smallest finger towards him.

Draco just stared at it curiously, making her giggle a little.

"I do a lot of pinky swears with Adrian." She spoke softly and then scooted nearer to whisper at him; "Our secret friends taught us about it."

"Who are your secret friends?" He frowned, looking quite hurt that she had some 'secret' friends _with Adrian._

"On some weekends, Father brings us to this park. It's a really fun place. Adrian and I have a lot of friends in there, although he said they're not really like us and they don't have any magic so we need to keep it pure secret to Mother that we're playing with them. Father said they're called _muggles_. They're really fun, you know. Father said that the park is very special because it's the reason why he gets to be with his little angel now. I'm his little angel, you know. I don't know what he means about the park though, but it makes me very happy, anyway," Hermione explained to him merrily.

"Father said that muggles are useless. He said they're a nuisance to our world because they're the reasons why we have _mudbloods_ now. They are very filthy, you know," Draco told her, now looking disgusted with his face slightly scrunched up.

"But they're pretty nice. We have a lot of fun, you know. And they taught us this—"

"Don't talk to them anymore. They're not worth your time. They are inferior beings," he simply said in a flat tone, as if his sentence was the end of that topic.

"Why are you so mean?"

"Why are you so…?" Draco stopped for a while when he realized that all he wanted to say was… was… well… he just wanted her to stay with him, that's all.

There was a long pause, until Hermione sighed and stood up.

"Wait!" Draco suddenly uttered and had almost toppled down while struggling to stand up and stop her from walking away. "You said you won't go."

"We didn't do the pinky swear, so I still can," she just shrugged.

"What is a pinky swear, anyway?" He whined while scratching his head in irritation.

"Well, it's when two people interlock their pinkies together, and then, a person makes an unbreakable promise to the other. If a pinky promise is broken, then a person can't make any more pinky promises forever, until they can make it all up to the person they made the pinky promise with," Hermione smiled, not noticing Draco's furrowed brows.

"Okay then," he nodded, though still looking unsure.

"Pinky swear!" Hermione beamed at him again and held her little finger in the air.

Albeit uncertain and hesitant, Draco entwined his pinky with hers, anyway.

"I promise I'll stay with Draco this whole night," Hermione nodded.

Draco suddenly decided he liked pinky swears.

* * *

It was a quiet morning and the sun decided to share its beams into the pond, making the water shine and swirl like crystals and twinkling stars…

Little Hermione thought it was pretty.

But she couldn't help but cry.

It had been the best two weeks of her life and she never really thought it would actually end.

Hermione and Draco had been too inseparable that it was almost impossible that they'd only been friends for a very short time. It was even as if they'd been together since birth.

Every day, they would play with Adrian at the gardens and just about everywhere. Draco decided that the older bloke wasn't really bad. He was actually pretty fun too. Though, sometimes, he still couldn't help but get jealous of his close relationship with Hermione. Draco would even throw a tantrum and ruin some of their activities once he would realise she was getting closer to Adrian rather than him.

But Hermione would always scold him for being so mean again, so then he would have to behave or he wouldn't be able to play with her.

Draco was usually a very stubborn kid and he always got what he wanted.

But somehow, he liked it when Hermione would scold him.

It made him feel that one way or another, someone cared for him too.

And Hermione was his best friend, and perhaps, his only friend. His friendship with Adrian was just a little show so he could be with Hermione, no matter how fun he could be sometimes.

Draco and Hermione would do everything together. Even at formal meals, they'd often have their own secret stares and smiles. Hermione would playfully get a food and Draco would get the same one and double them, just so she could giggle softly at his amusing antic.

Sometimes, he would sneak inside her room at night just to give her cookies. She liked to eat cookies but was forbidden to have some so she was always happy whenever he'd bring some for her. They would then read together, or just draw and paint together. He most especially loved it when she would read him some stories. He would fall asleep on her lap but she wouldn't really mind.

One time, they even had a role-play where Hermione was the bride and he was the groom. Adrian was the one who got them married. It was a sideline role and Draco thought it suited him.

They'd laugh hand in hand together and play hide and seek at the huge mansion and at the large garden whenever the moon was bright.

He especially liked it when she'd hold his hand.

She had very soft and warm hands.

She liked it when he'd take her on his back for a piggyback ride.

He would run around the gardens with her laughing on his back while she pretended to fly.

They also got to play under the rain and promised each other that they'd do that again even if they'd get older.

Sometimes, they'd count the stars and though he would often end up frustrated and annoyed for not being able to count them all, he'd do it again the next night anyway… because he got to do it with Hermione.

Every day was bright and idyllic because that meant he got to see Hermione and play with her again.

Every night was fun too, because he got to sneak inside her room and read stories with her.

The garden was their playground, the dining room was their candy store, the rain was their little shower, the moon was their chandelier, the stars were their jewels, the cupboards were their hiding places, and the grass was their carpet…

He was the prince and she was the princess, with the little carps as their minions.

Everything in this summer was the world to them.

And they had each other to enjoy it.

"Please don't cry, Mione. I promise you, we'll still see each other again," her best friend told her softly while brushing off the fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Promise me we'll still play under the rain even if we're already older and boring. Promise me you'll still let me ride on your back even if I get heavier. Promise me you'll always be my prince. Promise me we'll always be together, Draco," she sniffed while leaning into him. "Even if I'll have a different school, please promise me you won't forget about me."

"I promise, Mione. We'll always be together. We'll write each other long letters everyday. You're my only princess," he nodded, looking as if he was going to cry; but decided he should be strong for the both of them. He didn't want his princess to think he was a weakling, did he?

"Pinky swear?" She asked him.

"Pinky swear," he smiled while interlacing his finger with hers, intending to keep his promise forever.

Hermione smiled at him… her big brown eyes looking up at him with so much innocence and beauty that he suddenly couldn't help but bend forward and press his lips into hers.

It was a very chaste kiss, but still…a kiss.

He had never done that before and he suddenly felt his heart racing to an impossible speed.

It was a confusing feeling, but it left him elated, in some way.

"I-I guess I should go," he stammered when he stood up and felt he suddenly had wobbly knees now too.

Hermione blinked twice before pursing her lips and frantically nodding. Her tears-stricken cheeks were looking redder and her big brown shiny eyes were rounder and bigger, too.

"Bye, princess," he whispered while wiping one last tear from her cheek before walking away.

Draco closed his eyes and fists tightly as he continued walking, trying his hardest to ignore the lump that was forming on his throat.

It actually hurt to stop it when he knew that Hermione was crying alone beside the pond, but he needed to be strong for her.

He bravely swallowed the painful lump on his throat, looked back one last time and smiled at the crying girl, willing her to smile back at him.

When she did, he nodded and held his pinky in the air, signifying that he intended to keep his promise.

She did the same and they stared at each other for a while before he finally walked away.

When Draco was finally home, his hand had all of a sudden moved to touch his lips. The feel of Hermione's soft ones still lingered there… seemingly tingling his senses and making his heart skip a beat.

That was when Draco Malfoy knew, he just had his first kiss… with his first love.

* * *

**A/N: I listened to Taylor Swift's "Mary's Song" while working on this one so I guess it's the theme song of this chapter. It's such a beautiful song and I guess everyone agrees. I suddenly want to be young again and see my first childhood proclaimed boyfriend. Haha.**

**Also, I want to say I'm sorry for quite a late update. I've been pretty busy lately with my muggle adult life. But hey, this chapter is a little longer than the usual, right? :D And I love this story so much so I'm giving my spare time into it as much as I can. :)**

**God bless you all!**

**Sue**


	4. A Letter Not For Him

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Four**

"**A Letter Not For Him"**

* * *

_**How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!**_

_**-W. B. Yeats**_

* * *

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Scotland, 1994**

The persistent and unrelenting light made its way to Draco Malfoy's eyes as he tried to blink twice, hoping he was still sleeping with a dreadful nightmare of pounding headache and nausea.

Much to his dismay, the stubborn pain just wouldn't go away.

Maybe there was a reason to it.

Maybe he just really needed the pain so he'd finally get up.

But dammit, it's Saturday.

He knew too well it's a Saturday when he had pounding headaches like this. It was just another result of a Slytherin Friday night party.

But maybe this wasn't just an ordinary Saturday.

Maybe it's—

"Oh shit!" He jumped out of the bed when he suddenly realised that today wasn't an ordinary Saturday just like he had thought a while ago.

In fact, it _wasn't_ Saturday at all.

It was Monday, for pity's sake.

Monday!

What the hell were they seriously thinking when they decided to secretly keep some firewhiskies with them from Hogsmeade to sneak into their common room so they could drink their brains out?

"Is it morning already?"

Oh right, they weren't thinking at all.

Draco thrashed around and saw a girl, about his age or older, frowning sluggishly at him and covering her dishevelled self with his ruffled blankets.

"Who are you?" He frowned at the girl with an auburn short frizzy hair, who just stared back at him quite decisively.

"Honestly, Draco. Is this how you thank a girl in the morning?" She rolled her eyes before languidly stretching and blatantly getting out of the bed while gathering her discarded clothing on the floor. "Twas a good night, though. Thanks, anyway. And I'm Rachel, if that even bothers you a bit. See you around."

Draco blinked twice before realising what just happened while staring at the girl who had just unashamedly dressed in front of him and went out of the room as if nothing happened.

He had a temporary daze, trying so hard to remember how the hell he ended up with a random girl on his bed. He shook his head for a while, trying to lessen the groggy and muzzy feeling before heading for the bathroom and deciding to skip his first class. It was definitely a rational decision, rather than ending up being forced to transfigure some abomination and cursing his way through the infirmary.

That thought made him grimace, or maybe it was because of the ugly chalky taste on his dried tongue.

He opened the faucet and washed his mouth gingerly, hating the mixture of his pounding headache and the raw taste of alcohol on his mouth.

He was sure he couldn't afford to stare at one firewhiskey again.

But then again, it was always what he thought during hangovers like this. Partying on a carefree night was another story.

He felt so sick; he nearly convinced himself that not showing himself on his first class was definitely a saintly act. It would spare his classmates from his bad mood.

It wasn't that he was an evil, unruly, dumb git or something.

He was just really moody, and well, a little rebellious at times.

His grades were rather more than fine, actually. His father would kill him if they weren't above average. And Snape had warned him once to keep out of trouble and not to thrash about while jeopardizing their house points if he still wanted to be in the team.

His godfather could be so hard on him like his own father, but his threats were just usually empty anyway, and besides, there was no Quidditch this year.

Draco couldn't really understand the point why they needed to cancel all the Quidditch matches just because they were expecting some guests and this tournament wherein only students who were seventeen years and older could participate. It made him feel even more contemptuous of the fact that he couldn't even participate in the Triwizard tasks _and_ play Quidditch too.

He got rid of the potion's cork with a flick of his thumb before chugging it down, grimacing and hissing a little because of its acidic taste. Before he discarded the bottle, however, his eyes had suddenly lingered into it, looking as if he just remembered a memory…

He shook his head, laughing quite coldly as if it was even useless to do so before he took one long cold shower to help the potion lessen his headache. He knew too well that in reality, stupid childish feelings were just too quixotic and impracticable to waste his time with.

* * *

The afternoon was quiet and idyllic as Draco made his way towards the empty Quidditch stadium with broom in hand. He knew that the whole castle was too busy for the upcoming visitors who were set to arrive just a few days from now to notice him there.

He just wanted to fly a bit and maybe clear his head from the persisting thoughts he had been having ever since the school year opened.

"_It is my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year," Dumbledore said. "But I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts, we shall have visitors from the Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic…"_

Dumbledore's next words had fled away from Draco's consciousness after that. He was left speechless and rooted on his seat as his schoolmates jeered and booed for the cancellation of the Quidditch matches but also clapped excitedly for the said tournament.

He knew that Hermione was studying at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

But, really? Was it even worth it to deem on useless hopes and anticipations again?

She probably wouldn't come anyway. And if she did, she wouldn't even remember him.

She had so easily forgotten about him after the summer they had together, after all.

By the time he had gotten home, he had written his first letter to Hermione; even telling her how special she was to him. But to no avail, he had never received any single letter back; no matter how many times he tried.

He felt like a sodding loser for even telling her how he felt and not receiving an answer back. He would have had settled for a rejection rather than an insulting silence.

When he started school, he had even asked his father to grant him authorisation for sending mail-bearing owls across international borders, knowing that she was going to study at Beauxbatons. His father didn't give him one, telling him that he had no time for some insignificant state of affairs. But Draco didn't stop there. He decided to talk to Adrian about it, asking him to give his letters to Hermione instead.

Adrian was at least two years older than he was and his father had already granted him access to send owls outside the country for him to exchange letters with his sister.

Draco decided he wasn't such a bad bloke after all. During Draco's first year, Adrian had even toured him once at some of the places at Hogwarts and had even acquainted him with some of his friends. He was already at his third year so Draco became quite popular with his first year classmates knowing that he was friends with the "older guys".

Draco's rage and resentment, however, had come back the very first time Adrian had received Hermione's owl. Adrian had slipped Draco's letter inside his envelope together with his letter to be sure that Hermione would receive them both, but to no avail, Hermione had only replied to Adrian's letter while Draco never received any.

Draco was too angry that he ended up tearing Hermione's letter to Adrian and almost hurting the owl itself. If it wasn't for Adrian's restraints, he could have had really injured the poor owl.

That day was the end of Draco's short friendship with Adrian.

They were both in Slytherin. During Draco's second year, they'd been working together at the Quidditch team so they couldn't really get rid of each other. But they were just mere acquaintances and teammates, not friends.

Draco wouldn't allow it.

How could you even be friends with someone who always receive the letters you badly want?

Through the years, both had never carried even one single friendly conversation to each other.

There had been formal discussions about some tactics in the game, little nods of greeting or a little wave here and there whenever they'd see each other at the corridor, but that was all.

They had become too indifferent with each other that it was even too awkward to even look.

Draco would even try to avoid him as much as possible along the corridors just to spare them both from a strained greeting.

Adrian had his own set of boring friends, as Draco would call it. He was younger but was proud to note that he had become more popular than Adrian on his own terms. He never had a girlfriend, unlike Adrian who had a couple of serious relationships before, but it was just because Draco felt it was too limiting to do so. When girls took interest on him when he joined the Quidditch team in his second year, he wasn't the type to ignore any of that attention. More so that he was trying to forget about his foolish childhood crush on someone who didn't even care enough to send him a single letter back.

Draco decided she was just a mere passing fancy and that it was useless to think about her, so he decided to venture out the girls who started to fawn on him.

Over the years, he had enjoyed all the attention he could get from any girl he wanted, just because he could; or maybe just because it was something he couldn't get from _her_…

He was about to mount his broom when he suddenly heard a group of students hovering and crowding over some guy, who was then currently shooing them away and trying to walk as fast as he could towards the corridor.

Draco squinted further to see that it was none other than Adrian Pucey. He appeared to have just received a mail from the Great hall and it was something his classmates were very interested in.

Annoyed, but at the same time quite curious, Draco couldn't help but follow the group secretly.

His heart was suddenly thrumming against his ribcage though he honestly didn't know why.

A few seconds later, Adrian stopped walking. He looked a little annoyed by his friends but tried to keep his cool while he signalled them to calm down.

Draco hid further into the corridor's huge Greek column, still listening intently to what he was about to say even if he didn't understand why the hell he should still care, anyway.

"My sister is coming, okay?" He sighed, and Draco's heart galloped to an impossible speed that it felt like he was suddenly having a heart attack.

"She was chosen to be one of the delegates to accompany some of the students whom the school had chosen to participate in the tasks. She's not of age for the tournament yet, so she can't join, which I am _very _thankful for. But she's expected to come so she can help whoever the Triwizard goblet chooses to participate in the tasks. They said it can pretty much take a lot of thinking along the tasks and seeing that she's at the top of her class, their headmistress considered her to come," Adrian explained, looking quite irritated that his classmates didn't seem to bother listening to his explanation at all. They just looked plain elated that another pretty girl was coming to Hogwarts.

"Miles said she's really fit. He saw one of her pictures on your room's desk," Terence Higgs grinned at Adrian while playfully nudging him on the shoulder. But clearly, the latter wasn't amused.

"So you're the one who _stole_ one of her pictures," it wasn't a question at all and Adrian looked a little heated now while he stared at his roommate.

"I didn't steal it, man! I just—well, _borrowed_ it. I'm planning to give it back to you by the time I'll be able to take my own pictures with her," Miles Bletchley explained gleefully and had even suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Draco suddenly had the urge of hexing his balls off.

"Don't even dare to think about it," Adrian glowered. "You can't hit on my sister. None of you can," he added while waving them off as if they were pests as he continued to walk away.

"You can't control her," one of them said, still sprinting to catch up on him.

Draco tried to leap as quietly as possible to transfer from one column to another, making sure that the guys were too busy pissing Adrian off to notice him.

"I know I can't," Adrian turned around to face his classmates once again, and Draco almost tumbled out from one of the columns he was hiding. "But my sister won't entertain any of you, so forget it."

"How can you be so sure about that?" Terrence challengingly asked him.

"She already has a boyfriend."

Draco was left rooted on the spot as the guys continued to walk away, cursing his stupid self for even bothering _again_.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Little info from the minor characters stated in this chap:**

**Rachel- In the HP series, she's ****a ****Slytherin ****student at ****Hogwarts ****during the1990s. In****1992, she ****was a member of the ****Duelling Club. She ****was also ranked number three on the Club's top-ten duellists list.**

**Miles Bletchley-****In the HP series, he was Adrian's classmate as he attended ****Hogwarts ****from ****1989 ****to ****1995, and was also the ****Keeper ****on the Slytherin Quidditch team from 1991 ****to ****1995.**

**Terence Higgs-****Also possibly noted as Adrian's classmate. ****He was the****Slytherin Quidditch team ****Seeker ****during the 1991–1992 ****season, but was replaced by ****Draco ****in 1992.**

**Thank you for all your reviews! :D I really appreciate each one of them!**

**And to reviewer Amanda, a belated Happy Birthday to you! I'm very glad to have made you happy on your bday. I hope that you'll also like this chapter. :)**

**Hope you guys like this chapter and please tell me what you think about it.**

**God bless all!**

**Love,**

**Sue**


	5. Still Beautiful

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Five**

**"****Still Beautiful"**

* * *

_**"We only part to meet again"**_

_**- J. Gay**_

* * *

Draco Malfoy felt like hell by the time he went back to the Slytherin dungeon.

After hearing those inopportune news, he had ran straight into the field and almost jumped into his broom that nearly knocked him off the ground if it wasn't for his viselike grip.

He stayed with the wind for hours, seemingly throwing all his frustrations and hatred in the innocent breeze.

He felt embittered.

He felt _cheated_.

He knew it probably made no sense at all as they were very young before. It was all, perhaps, nothing to her while he took everything quite seriously.

But still.

They promised that they would never forget about each other.

She had even _cried_ when he left.

What they had was something special.

Or at least for him, it was.

The sticky feel of his sweat covered shirt inside his robes was quite irksome, and was even being added by his somewhat sore and tired body.

Clearly, this day wasn't his day at all.

He woke up with a random girl on his bed and a persistent hangover, skipped his first class in which he knew would get him in trouble tomorrow and then, when classes were over and he thought that was the end of it, he'd overheard some facts that made him think how much of an idiot he really had been.

Now, all that he honestly wanted to do was to throw his body into the shower and fall asleep in a huge tub.

"I told you she's really pretty."

Draco looked around by the time he had gone inside their common room and saw Terrence Higgs and Miles Bletchley together with some of the Slytherin Quidditch team members, Graham Montague, Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole slumped over the low backed black and dark green sofas with buttons in the corner that had become one of the most favourite places of the Slytherins in their common room.

"No Quidditch this year, remember?" Draco tried to look uncaring as he went nearer to the group, though he knew what it was that they were really fussing about.

"You're right. No Quidditch this year. But there are some entertaining things besides Quidditch too, you know," Miles Bletchley grinned at him while wiggling his eyebrows just like he did a while ago at Adrian. Draco suddenly wanted to poke those two ugly eyes with his fingers until they'd bleed.

"What the hell is this, anyway?" Draco asked as he callously snatched the picture from Terrence' grip, making the latter whine in protest.

"She's Adrian's sister. She's really something, isn't she? Don't go off telling this to him, though. He might get too angry that he'll try to stop her from coming to Hogwarts," Lucian Bole warned as Draco stared at the picture for the first time.

Draco tried so hard to convince himself not to care anymore.

He tried so hard to stop staring, just return the picture and walk out.

But, damn.

Looking at the girl of your dreams for the first time in years and seeing how exactly she had turned out to be was quite… amazing; in some sense, even vaguely beyond belief.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered or even thought about.

Hermione was wearing her uniform, which was made of light blue silk as she smiled and waved at the camera. A book and her little blue hat were placed delicately just beside her.

She was sitting on an outdoor porch swing and her other hand had reached out to take a strand of stray hair away from her face because of the breeze.

The ambiance was bright and sunny, making her glow a little.

She was just so beautiful and so happy and so carefree that it almost hurt to know that she had so easily forgotten the tears she shed when he went away…

She was happy now.

She was happy with someone else.

"Don't stare too much, mate. Adrian said she's taken," Miles told him while patting his back teasingly and snatching the photo away from his paralysed hand.

That was when Draco snapped back to reality.

He was angry.

He was angry _at her_.

Who the hell did she even think she was?

He was Draco Malfoy, for fuck's sake.

He could have _any_ girl he wanted.

But he wasted his time thinking about her. He was the only one who had even kept a promise which only seemed to have been a game to her. She had led him on and he just let her. He had exerted so much effort just so he could assure her that she was never forgotten.

But in the end, _she_ had forgotten about him.

Maybe he had a fault for taking it so seriously and ending up getting hurt. But hell, she had to have been at least understanding about it and explain to him everything.

But she didn't care one bit to do so.

She was his only friend; his best friend.

But she had too many friends to even bother sending back one single letter to him.

She could never understand how important everything was to him because she had never experienced being alone.

She didn't know how crucial it was for a lonely kid like him to wait on his window every day, hoping that he could at least receive a single letter from the only person whom he thought had cared enough for him.

But it turned out that she was just one of them.

Come to think of it, he had a lot of girls, but somehow, he couldn't enter into a relationship because at the back of his mind, he was still thinking he would somehow betray her if he did.

While she even managed to get a _boyfriend_ that easily!

Of course, she did.

She never cared anyway.

So why should he even care back?

Honestly, what was wrong with him?

She wasn't worth it.

She was just a girl.

His head twitched slightly to see the three girls who were seated just beside the dungeon's glass window. They were doing some home works but also appeared to be annoyed that they were being ignored by their male housemates just because of a single picture.

Draco studied the three of them and smirked when he realised that, at some point, he actually had short flings with each of them.

He refused to look like a sore loser when Hermione would finally see him again.

She didn't care anyway, so it was time for him to show her that the feeling was mutual.

He deliberated for a while as he stared at his three classmates, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davies.

He then had mentally scratched Pansy on the list first before he could even start pondering further.

He just needed a girlfriend for Hermione's whole stay at Hogwarts, not a wife.

Pansy was just too clingy and territorial that just a little indication of assurance would prompt her to secure herself that she would be marrying him straight after.

Pansy had always been very possessive of him because she had plastered a sick thought in that mind of hers that she owned him just because she was his first, and vice versa. It happened last year, actually, and it was the most awkward sex he ever had. They both had no idea what to do and they did it just for the sake of sheer curiosity. Plus, they were drunk too. They decided to chug down an enormous amount of alcohol to grant them some nerves. They both wanted to be the very firsts among everyone else in everything. That was a sick concept, but hey, it was still competition. The next day was hell and he preferred not to think about it further.

He turned to look at Daphne but decided to cross her out of the list as well. Daphne was fine. She was the prettiest among the Slytherin girls, actually. She may be a tad too materialistic and costly, but he had the money to live with that.

The reason why he couldn't possibly attach himself to her was because of her bratty, exaggerated and overly emotional little sister, Astoria Greengrass.

Honestly, that girl could give him chills and nightmares at the same time. Once, she had even thrown a huge tantrum and cried so hard that it was as if someone had abused her when she caught him inside her sister's room. The brat was just too scary that he ended up running and almost flying out of Daphne's room with only his boxers on. But what's worse was that, a day later, he received a "sorry" _slash_ "love" letter from Astoria, asking him to dump her sister and make her his girlfriend instead.

He sighed as he finally turned to look at Tracey Davies.

Tracey Davies was… well… boring.

She wasn't even that good looking.

She was quite attractive, yes. But she would always try her hardest to be beautiful and popular by buying expensive cosmetics and helping Pansy and her friends in putting down all the other girls in school.

She was also very smug and she considered herself as a superior even if she neither had enough looks nor personality at all.

Draco didn't even know why the hell he'd even bothered to have a little fling with her before when she was _that_ boring; perhaps, because of boredom too.

But right now, she was the safest.

Draco knew that Tracey wasn't the kind of girl who'd been quite romantically linked to him. She enjoyed the popularity he gave her, but she didn't care a bit about him, which was just perfect.

She would be the most useful and also the most harmless conquest.

He smirked as he started walking towards the girls, who had now noticed him and started to giggle flirtingly at him.

His ego was definitely going to be intact and protected these following months.

And he would make sure that Hermione would clearly see that.

* * *

The great hall was perfectly adorned with beautiful floating candles. The enchanted ceiling was also placed so as to add to the hall's grandeur, making the whole place seemingly alive with magic just as it was every welcoming feast of the school year.

It was finally Friday the 30th of October and the school's most awaited guests had finally arrived. They were guided away from the Durmstrang ship and the Beauxbatons' carriage pulled by a dozen winged horses, respectively, by Hagrid and Filch.

They were expected to make their entrance at the great hall to meet the Hogwarts students.

Draco fidgeted on his seat as Dumbledore spoke his rather long introduction for the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic students and their headmistress.

Tracey appeared bored but also a bit apprehensive of the fact that her new beau might find some new attractive students and end her popularity reign. She decided to cling into Draco more, just to reassure her spot.

Draco just absently rubbed her back a bit, for appearance's sake; though it was clear that he wasn't paying any attention to her at all.

"Please welcome the students of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress, Madame Olympe Maxime!" Dumbledore announced pleasantly as he widely opened his long, slender arms to welcome the guests.

The sounds of violins and pianos had then taken the attention of the students. Choirs of wood nymphs had emerged from the antique door of the great hall and had spread gracefully along the sides of the aisle, playing a particular soft and beautiful melody.

The first one to enter was their school's headmistress, in whom Draco thought to be too huge to be considered as a woman if it wasn't for her elegant black satin robes that identified her as one.

Together with her was a breathtakingly beautiful girl, who danced her way around her like that of a ballerina. She was tall, willowy and looked very fragile as she glided along the way, making every guy in Hogwarts sigh as she passed by.

For a moment, Draco hadn't taken his eyes off of her, until he suddenly saw one of the girls dancing just behind her.

It seemed surreal and dreamlike, knowing exactly and faithfully that he was finally looking at Hermione…

She was smiling beautifully as she followed and danced a few feet behind their leader.

The older girl seemed to become the most popular among the crowd but Draco couldn't help but stare at Hermione alone.

Hermione danced and glided her way through the aisle that Draco couldn't help but had his mouth open for a while as he stared at her, looking as if he was trapped inside a trance.

She had definitely grown into a beautiful woman.

He couldn't help but think just how much the picture hadn't done any justice to her at all. She was unquestionably more stunning in person.

Her long shiny curls bounced elegantly in the air along with her gorgeous body as she danced gracefully as if she was floating.

Her face was so angelic and so innocent that she almost glowed in the gentleness and softness of her dance strokes.

Her eyes were rounder and her lips were fuller than what he remembered, but he knew they were as soft as before, if not softer.

She was his Hermione…

She was still beautiful.

She was more than beautiful.

She was his angel, his princess... his dream girl.

And when she stopped dancing, her striking honey coloured eyes landed directly on him...

* * *

**A/N:**

**I actually found a ****really ****cute manip of Hermione as a Beauxbatons student. She's a very gorgeous girl and she can pretty nail any look. :) I posted it on my profile if you want to see it. :)**

**Along the way, I have really pictured Hermione's look as that of her real-life counterpart, Emma Watson, seeing that if this kind of thing really did happen to Hermione, she'd be as elegant and as gorgeous as Emma. JK Rowling had secured that thought when she wrote about how Hermione became a head turner during the Yuleball. It just meant that Hermione's a naturally very good looking girl and can definitely make a great impact among the crowd if she only knew how to use and flaunt her beauty.**

**And luckily enough, in this fic, she was **_**raised **_**and **_**trained **_**to be beautiful. :)**

**Thanks for reading, guys! I got so overly excited that I suddenly found myself updating this earlier than I intended to. Haha. Thanks for all your reviews and I hope to hear more from you! Have a blessed Sunday!**

**Love,**

**Sue**

* * *

**Little info from the HP canon about the minor characters stated above:**

**1.) Astoria Greengrass- in the HP series, she was two years younger than her sister Daphne. Astoria presumably attended ****Hogwarts ****and was in Slytherin. She eventually married ****Draco Malfoy ****in the canon. **_**And I hate her for that. **_**I hate her more than Pansy actually, and every time I get to see any fic with her and Draco, I feel like I could tear something and I'm suddenly having stress wrinkles, and I'm too young to have one! Grrr… lol**

**2.) Daphne Greengrass- in the HP series, she's in Slytherin and was Draco's classmate. She was also part of Pansy Parkinson's circle of Slytherin girls' gang. She also shared a dormitory with Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davies, Millicent Bulstrode and an unknown girl not stated in the canon.**

**3.) Tracey Davies- in the HP series, she was in Slytherin, Draco's classmate and shared a dormitory with Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode and an unknown girl not stated in the canon.**

**4.) Pansy Parkinson- in the HP series, she was Draco Malfoy's girlfriend. She was a prefect like Draco and also a member of the ****Inquisitorial Squad in her fifth year. It was said that her relationship with Draco drifted apart after they both finished their education (in which I don't care because she doesn't deserve Draco. NO ONE DOES EXCEPT HERMIONE!) Haha.**

**5.) Peregrine Derrick– in the HP series, he was in Slytherin and started studying Hogwarts at 1988. He played as a beater on theSlytherin Quidditch team in the 1993-1994 school year.**

**6.) Lucian Bole-in the HP series, he ****attended ****Hogwarts from 1988 ****to****1995.****He was a ****Beater ****on the ****Slytherin Quidditch team ****in both ****1993–1994 and****1994–1995 ****(though there was no Quidditch matches in this particular year).**

**7.) Graham Montague-in the HP series, he ****attended ****Hogwarts ****in the 1990s. He was a ****Chaser ****on the Slytherin ****Quidditch team ****from ****1993 ****to 1996. He was also a member of the Inquisitorial Squad.**


	6. Broken Promise

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Six**

"**Broken Promise"**

Draco decided that nothing in this world could ever be as strong and as striking as Hermione's stare.

She had looked at him as if he was the only person in the whole place.

It had confused him to no end that she could do that, when in fact, she had ignored all his efforts years ago.

She was staring right into his eyes as if trying to read his every thought, his feelings… and all the sensations elicited from his soul.

He had never felt his heart beat this loud that he could even swear that he could hear it amongst the noise of the Great Hall.

He felt himself suddenly breathing deeply as he stared at her.

It almost hurt to breathe for he just couldn't get enough air as she stared back, just as fiercely.

His heart seemed to have doubled its labour as it compensated on the sudden rush of blood rushing on his system.

She was staring straight into his eyes like… like she had missed him.

It left him confounded and gobsmacked that all these years, she was the one who had ignored him and had forgotten about him but when she had entered the hall, it was as if he was the one she had intended to find among this large crowd at the first place.

She even looked a bit hurt when her eyes had lingered on his hand which was still resting on Tracey's shoulder.

All of a sudden, it felt as if the great hall was deserted; like they were on an empty stage with nothing but the both of them as the artists and spectators at the same time.

He suddenly had the urge to take his hand off of Tracey and jump his way towards Hermione.

The problem was that he couldn't even move anymore.

He was helplessly swallowed by a huge black hole that was her stare.

He frankly couldn't understand the emotions lingering in those beautiful honey coloured orbs, but he just couldn't look away. It was as if he wanted to uncover them but also let them keep the secrets they owned because the mystery astounded him to no end that it had become too beautiful to let go.

He just couldn't look away and he didn't care if he was becoming too obvious to anyone else in the room, anymore.

She was already too obvious to him as he was to her, so why the hell care about others as well?

Their stares lasted for the whole welcoming feast celebration, only broken by occasional conversations from both their schoolmates and Tracey's suddenly endless questions about things she wasn't even interested in before.

When Draco saw Hermione taking a scone and placing it delicately on her plate, he doubled his own servings on his plate without breaking their eye contact.

She smiled a little when she saw what he did; making Draco smirk at the fact that she still remembered what they used to do before.

It was like a game.

Draco knew he was venturing on dangerous territories again.

He damn well knew it was twisted.

He knew that he was just placing himself in that state of vulnerability that he never wanted to get back again.

Maybe he really hadn't gotten over her no matter how he tried.

Maybe he really had this sick obsession with his childhood crush.

Maybe…

But he just couldn't stop

Because he liked it too much.

* * *

"Mione?"

Hermione looked up from fixing her clothes to see her friend, Fleur Delacour, peeking inside her space within the Beauxbatons' pastel blue coach that was to be their home for the next few months.

Fleur was a model student and was highly respected by all her fellow Beauxbatons schoolmates. She was even the most preferred student of the headmistress to play on the Triwizard tournament. Besides her popularity and status as a seventh year, however, she was very close with Hermione even if she was years younger than she was.

Like Fleur, Hermione was a dedicated student. They were both very outspoken and very much involved with social and public issues, especially regarding on the welfare of their school. They had even become friends through an inter-level debate competition in their school. It was composed of representatives taken from each level; from third year to seventh year. It had been a tough contest, but in the end, Hermione had taken the price. Fleur was very much impressed on Hermione's capabilities even if she was still very young. None of them were expecting a younger student to win over a seventh year who was practically the best student in the whole Academy.

Fleur had even told Hermione once that she was going to give her crown to her someday when she would graduate and leave the school. The Beauxbatons students were very proud individuals, but they bragged only because they knew that they had it. Fleur may have sounded arrogant and haughty to other people in talking about this, but to her fellow students and to Hermione, it was a very normal thing to say inside the school grounds.

Hermione had learned that audacity and confidence were considered as some of the privileges of being a beautiful, graceful woman. If you have it, then you should flaunt it or else it wouldn't be considered beautiful when no eyes could even see it. When you humble yourself too much and try to hide your gift to others, then there was no point in owning it at the first place.

"Mione, tu as un visiteur," Fleur pleasantly smiled at the younger girl.

"D'accord, merci. J'arrive dans une minute," Hermione smiled back at her.

Fleur just beamed back and walked out before telling her that she was just going to be in her room, in case she would need something.

Hermione knew the visitor Fleur was talking about was probably just Adrian, checking up on her, but she still couldn't stop her heart from fluttering a little, knowing that it might be… someone else.

After the feast a while ago, they were all gathered by Madame Maxime for further instructions regarding the schedule of their meals which would be taking place at the Hogwarts' Great Hall. Their curfew, study and sleeping schedules inside the Beauxbatons' coach were discussed as well.

Hermione didn't have the time to talk to any of the Hogwarts students because of that, in which she wasn't sure was a fortunate or unfortunate thing to occur.

"Adrian!" Hermione beamed as she ran down the golden steps of the carriage into her brother's arms. She laughed when he lifted her off the ground and playfully swirled her around a little.

She was happy to see him.

But she didn't know why she would feel more than happy if it wasn't him and if it was someone else who was waiting outside that carriage door for her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to talk to you at the hall a while ago. Madame Maxime wanted to talk to us about certain rules inside the Hogwarts' grounds," she explained when he finally placed her on the ground.

"Nah, it's alright," he beamed at her. "What's not alright is if you'll tell me that you didn't miss me. Did you miss me?" He asked her as he impishly touched the tip of her nose, making her chuckle while wrinkling her nose a little.

"No," she joked while teasingly crossing her arms at him.

"Oh yeah?" Adrian challenged her as he suddenly tickled her sides, making her shriek and laugh while trying to get away from him.

Both had then ended up laughing and teasing each other like little children again outside the enormous carriage.

Hermione and Adrian had never lost their closeness and were very comfortable with each other. They loved each other very dearly and Adrian had never failed to visit her at France during his free holidays just like he had promised her before. Though far away, they also wrote letters to each other so it was still as if they'd grown up together.

Hermione knew that she could never ask for a better brother than Adrian.

"Hey! What are you three looking at?" Adrian suddenly asked coldly at the three Hogwarts students standing just a few feet away from them. Hermione noted that his voice sounded so different and far from his usual gentle tone whenever he would talk to her.

Hermione turned to see the three students who were then hesitantly making their way towards them. The guy with jet black hair looked a little embarrassed and quite uncomfortable of the situation as if he was just dragged into it as he followed both of his friends just a few feet behind.

The other two students had significantly red flaming hairs. Hermione assumed they were siblings as they also had same features in some way. The younger girl looked a bit uncertain too, but was the most confident among the group as she dragged her brother nearer.

"Hi," the younger girl squeaked nervously while smoothing her skirt a little. "We just—just—w-want to make friends with you, since you're erm… new here and well… I mean, I'm Ginny, this is Harry and," she stopped to drag her brother in front of her. Hermione thought the poor bloke wasn't breathing anymore. He seemed whipped by his own sister. "This is my brother, Ronald Weasley."

Ginny's brother had suddenly nudged her a little, looking redder than ever.

"Oh, sorry. His name's Ron. Just _Ron_. People call him Ron than Ronald and—well, forget it, it's just Ron," Ginny nodded while trying to smile but ended up grimacing awkwardly at her.

"Look, Gimmy and whatever your friends' names are, this is _my_ sister. She's friends with the _Slytherins_. She's one of us," Adrian bitterly spoke before Hermione could even open her mouth. "Tell _Ronald_ here that he's better off sticking with the single girls inside your common room and not to venture out to foreign students for a date. Their standards can't take a lousy, miserable, hopeless Gryffindor ginger head and—"

"Adrian!" Hermione scolded him, looking outraged at what her brother just said. Adrian just pursed his lips and crossed his arms in defiance.

"I'm really sorry about that," Hermione told them warily. "I'm Hermione Pucey by the way, Adrian's sister. It's nice to meet you. Your school's pretty good. It's nice that I've finally been able to come and visit here," she smiled as she shook each of their hands; frowning a little on how cold and shaky _Ron_ Weasley's hand was.

"Alright, Ginger head. That's enough," Adrian sighed while shoving his hand away from his sister.

"You really don't have to be that rude, you know," Ginny scoffed at Adrian while pulling her brother away, who seemed a little angry but looked too smitten and flustered to even gripe back. "We best should go now, Hermione. It's nice to meet you," she added while giving a kind smile to the Beauxbatons girl.

"See you around," Hermione beamed back before the three went away. She couldn't help but stare further as they went down towards the castle and pushed each other casually and playfully. It seemed that they were laughing and blaming each other for their own embarrassment. The two seemed to even tease this guy named Ron, who was then scratching his head in discomfiture. Hermione thought he was a bit cute despite of his timid nature. She then smiled when she noticed that this guy, Harry, looked a bit louder now than a while ago. They all seemed so happy and so natural with each other. Hermione wondered what it would be like if she was one of them.

"Didn't I tell you not to talk to those people? I already explained the status of all the houses here, Hermione and—"

"_And _I really still don't get the fact on how the students in your school are so divided and that you're one of those who support that," Hermione cut him while shaking her head in displeasure. "In our school, we support each other. There are competitions, yes; but we do them to hone each other's' skills. It's very important for us to support and help our fellow schoolmates in what they do for the welfare of the whole school. Competing is healthy only when you know that you help each other grow and improve. It becomes too destructive when you keep on pulling each other down just to feel superior. We, Beauxbatons students, care more of our school's reputation than those useless inter-house wars that you're so interested in," she explained proudly with her head held high, making her brother stifle a laugh due to her patriotic state.

"Stop bragging as if Hogwarts hadn't been your dream school before," Adrian chuckled while playfully pinching her nose now.

"Adrian! Stop!" She laughed while slapping his hand away from her face. "I'm just trying to stress a point, you know."

"Where's the fun in being too friendly with each other? And may I just stress my point too, okay? That _Harry _a while ago? He's Harry Potter. He's the one who beats Slytherin in Quidditch over and over again. He seems to be best friends or lovers with the snitch in a very twisted way, even to the point of swallowing it just to win," he laughed when Hermione grimaced a little at the information. "Yeah, that's true. He always beats Malfoy so we—" Adrian suddenly stopped when he saw Hermione froze by the time he had accidentally mentioned Malfoy's name.

A long silence had prevailed while Adrian studied his sister's tensed mood. She seemed to have doubled her breathing now, which made Adrian remember what he saw a while ago at the Great Hall.

"How is Draco?" She suddenly asked after a while, a faint smile giving a little glow to her flushed face.

"We don't talk much," Adrian just shrugged. "But he's okay, still quite the heartbreaker actually."

"Who's the girl beside him a while ago?"

"Tracey Davies. His new girlfriend," he promptly replied, looking very indifferent as if he was bored of the topic they were now in.

"Oh," Hermione just nodded. She bit her lower lip a little and looked down while trying to hide the sadness that was evident in her eyes.

Adrian wanted to crack a little joke just to make her smile, but thought better of it and just waited for her to speak again.

"Well, he looks really good now," she suddenly said after a long silence while smiling shyly at her brother.

"Oh come on, Mione! Don't tell me you're still having that silly crush on him. He's not just the type to take girls seriously. You know how he changed and how he is now, right?"

"I know," Hermione nodded meekly. "I-I just thought that… that maybe we can talk and catch up on things, you know. Maybe I can ask him why he never answered any of my letters before or—"

"Forget it. Will you just snap out of it, already? You're better off without him. And what the hell was that stunt a while ago? I saw you two at the Great Hall. His hand was on his girlfriend _while_ you two are looking and smiling at each other flirtingly. You're better than that, Hermione! You were flirting with him! Don't act like a cheap—"

"Adrian! I know my limitations, okay? You don't have to remind me like you're scolding a little child," she told him irately.

"Then stop acting like one," he muttered while pursing his lips in annoyance.

"I'm going inside now. I still have a lot of arranging to do," she spoke bitterly before turning her back to walk inside their coach.

"Wait, Mione," Adrian sighed while following her. She stopped and just stared at him heatedly. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just looking out for you. I don't want you to get hurt or anything. I'm your brother and you know that you always have my back, right?"

"I know that," she replied while finally sighing and smiling gently at him. "Thanks, Adrian. I love you," she added while hugging her brother.

"I love you too, Mione. I really do."

* * *

It wasn't a good morning for Draco at all.

Tracey was fuming yesterday when they were finally inside their common room. She kept on throwing him murdering glances that he needed to walk straight into his room and lock the door as if nothing happened. She would go back to him the next day or two, anyway. If she wouldn't, then it would even be better. He had enough problems to handle for now.

He even spent almost all his time thinking about going to the Beauxbatons' carriage just to see or talk to Hermione but his nerves just wouldn't let him. For that, he needed to suffer an uncalled insomnia the whole night just because he couldn't stop thinking about her.

What were those stares yesterday all about, anyway?

It was even as if they were flirting with each other.

Well, at least for him they were; knowing that maybe, it was just nothing for her again.

He sighed while he looked for some books for his unfinished homework. It was due just an hour after his break and he needed to work on it or face his father's wrath for not being on top again.

When he rounded a corner though, he was suddenly and inexplicably rooted on his spot; and for a couple of millisecond, his heart seemed to stop beating.

Because standing a few feet from him and just beside the library's window was the same girl who had been intruding his mind… Hermione.

She was leaning on the wall just beside the slightly opened window while placing all her attention to the book she was currently reading.

She was reading too eagerly and fervently that it was too hypnotic not to stare on her beautiful face.

It was just amazing on how someone could indulge in a book like that so much as if it was her lover.

All her attention and focus was on the book that Draco even felt a little jealous of the author of the book itself; how that author could touch and reach out to her, and how she could draw out so much passion and fervour just by reading and learning.

She smiled a little at the phrase that she must have found amusing as the light beams from the window continued to dance across the light freckles that could be traced on her face. Small invisible pixie dews seemed to glide along her long lashes as they complimented her sun-kissed cheeks. The small waft coming from the window which was ajar made some of her curls dance along her shoulders.

The sight could never be more beautiful.

It reminded him of their summer together.

He suddenly wanted to reach out.

He suddenly wanted to take her mind off of the book so that she could—so she could…

Look_._

At.

_Him._

He suddenly felt his palm accidentally pressing the embossed titles of the books inside the shelf beside him which made a faint, dull tapping sound. He hadn't noticed that his hand was currently leaning at the ridge of the bookshelf while he was watching her.

Hermione looked up from the book that she was reading and gasped a little when she saw who it was.

Draco tried to step forward but that only made her let go of the book that she was holding.

"Let me get that for you," he said while hurrying over and picking up the book for her.

"T-Thank you," she smiled breathlessly while taking the book from him.

"Still as clumsy as ever," he laughed softly, trying to at least lessen the tension that was suddenly built between them.

"Well, you kind of startled me," she replied while she fiddled on the hardbound cover of the book and bit her lower lip shyly. This act made him smile in amusement.

"Sorry about that. I was just about to get some books when I saw you," he told her while stepping a little nearer, trying to take in her delicate flowery smell.

Hermione just smiled and nodded. She was trying so hard to stop the madness that was going on inside her ribcage. She could swear her heart was too restless that it was just too ready to jump out from her chest any second.

She just couldn't believe it.

She was finally here… with Draco Malfoy.

She knew Adrian had warned her and told her how dodgy this was, especially that he was already committed to someone else. But it wouldn't really hurt making friends with him, right?

"So, how are you? It's been pretty long since we've last seen each other. Well, that's if you still remember me," she chuckled quite shakily at him.

"Well, I'm alright," Draco frowned. Shouldn't _he_ be the one to ask her that, and not her? She was the one who never answered his letters and had forgotten about him first, anyway.

"I'm sure you are. They say you're quite popular here," she told him while still smiling. Draco couldn't quite comprehend the expression on her face when she said that, however. It was as if there was a raw indication on something that was so close to sarcasm.

He wanted to ask her about their ruined communication but thought better of it when he remembered that she now had a boyfriend and was obviously happy with the way things were.

Maybe it would even put them both on a very awkward situation, or maybe she would end up laughing at his face and telling him how pathetic it was for him to carry a grudge just because of a ruined childish pinky promise.

No.

He couldn't let that happen.

He only had months to be with her.

And in these months, he would be very sure to keep his ego unharmed no matter what.

"Maybe I am," he just shrugged cockily instead. "It's just the way things are, I guess."

"Right," she just nodded while frowning and sounding a little annoyed now.

"Maybe I can show you around then, you know… let you meet the right crowd or what not," he offered her casually, as if it wouldn't matter if she would say yes or no, which was so far from what he was really feeling at the moment.

Truth be told, it was a matter of life and death for him.

She could make or break him any time.

And that was very dangerous.

"I don't think so," she suddenly told him which made his heart sank into an impossible level.

She was just a cruel, _cruel_ girl, wasn't she?

After she had hurt him all these years, he shouldn't even have to bother talking to her like this.

Now he was finally receiving a real rejection from her.

He always thought it would be so much better than her rude silence, but it turned out to be so much worse.

"Sure, then," he shrugged again, feigning the newly formed barb on his heart. "I don't think I'll be able to squeeze you in on my tight schedule, anyway. Well, see you around," he added before walking away, making sure to place his trembling hands inside his pockets.

Hermione was left alone and had stood there for almost a minute as she hugged the book closely to her drumming chest.

Adrian was right.

Her Draco really had changed.

He was not here anymore.

He was gone, just like their broken promise.

* * *

**A/N: Well, Adrian wasn't sorted in Slytherin without any reason at all, was he? :(**

**Thanks for the reviews anyway, guys! Please keep on tuning and reviewing. I love reading them so much! And belated Happy Valentine's Day to all! Hope you had a good one.**

**And oh, **_**please **_**do correct my crappy French in case it's wrong. Lol.**

**God bless you all!**

**Sweet kisses,**

**Sue**


	7. You Remember

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Seven**

"**You Remember"**

"What are we doing here, Draco?" Tracey whined while languidly wandering around the bookstore. She looked as if world-weariness was going to swallow her any second.

They were now at 'Tomes and Scrolls', a specialist bookshop in Hogsmeade. Tracey had cornered him at their common room just this morning to tell him that she was wholly sorry for their row days ago.

Draco had already expected that occurrence to happen, of course.

Who on earth would take Draco Malfoy for granted, anyway?

You have to be perfect to do so.

In other words, you have to be Hermione.

After their short mandatory peace talks, Tracey had then explicitly asked him to take her to _Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop _which was located at the side street off the main road at Hogsmeade. Draco thought she just wanted to show off their infamous relationship to people again. Some of her friends might have noticed their sudden detachment for days. And that just wouldn't do, would it?

She'd become too haughty about the fact that she was Draco Malfoy's first official girlfriend. Her popularity had increased tenfold just because of that. And what better way to show off to people that they're together again than having a date with him at the place where almost all couples from Hogwarts had always loved to go?

Draco, however, honestly detested the place.

Pansy had once asked him to take her there. The whole place screamed its tawdriness and utterly cheap setting, in which many couples were so eager to ignore as they seemed pretty busy snogging each other's brains out.

The idea of even going in there again made him internally cringe.

He was so close to opening his mouth and rejecting Tracey's request until Adrian's voice had suddenly entered his mind.

_"She already has a boyfriend."_

So far, he had never seen Hermione with another guy alone, except with her brother.

She had ignored him for days but that didn't stop him from spying on her.

Hell, he couldn't even stop his own eyes from always turning their direction on _her_.

It was _madness. _Merlin knew he'd probably really lost it.

But the thought of Hermione going out with another guy just kept on torturing him and making his blood boil to a ridiculous degree.

He wanted to know this guy who owned her heart.

He wanted to know so he could kill him and throw his body to the lake.

And then, Tracey had to say it:

"_Some Beauxbatons and Durmstrang couples are also coming to the place, you know… checking a few spots in Hogsmeade here and there."_

Just a few minutes after, Draco found himself marching towards 'Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop' with his giddy girlfriend. They were about to go inside the shop, however, when he suddenly saw Hermione together with three Beauxbatons girls and her brother, Adrian, making their way towards 'Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop'.

With a sudden swiftness he only had rather exhibited during Quidditch matches, Draco had suddenly turned his heel and snatched Tracey's arm before she could even step on the shop's doormat. His whiny girlfriend couldn't even speak a thing and could only mope when she realised they were then entering 'Tomes and Scrolls' instead, which was a store just across 'Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop'.

"Why the hell won't you answer me? And what are you watching in that blasted window? Tell me or I will—"

"For goodness' sake, Tracey! You've been babbling ceaselessly in there! For once, _please_, would you just _shut up_? Just give me a fucking minute here, won't you?" He whispered loudly, looking evidently vexed at his companion while he continued on spying some people inside the Quill shop just across the street from the store they were now in.

"Oh, geez, Draco. I'm so sorry for being a little concerned of your loss of directions and let's say _sanity_. I'm just trying to be a thoughtful girlfriend here, when clearly, my boyfriend's as insensitive as a dead dementor!"

"Drop it!"

"No! I won't until you take me to that tea shop!" Tracey shrieked loudly, gathering some curious stares from the customers and an aggravated warning stare from the shopkeeper.

"Alright. Fine." Draco gritted his teeth and cursed while callously pulling some galleons inside his robes. "Here! Go to Gladrags Wizardwear and buy all the useless clothes you want and I'll meet you there when I'm done with my shopping, _then _we'll go to that bloody tea shop."

Tracey squealed a bit when she saw the ridiculously ample amount of galleons presented to her and kissed her boyfriend sweetly, in which he responded in a very stiff manner. Obviously, though, she didn't care one bit as she started to walk out of the bookshop with a happy and smug face on her look to the shopkeeper.

Draco cursed again and continued to look outside through the store's window. It was a good thing that the glass window of the Quill shop where Hermione was inside was slightly larger, so he could properly see what they were doing inside, or rather, what _she_ was doing.

She was wearing a classy belted coat and a black lace-up boots, with her hair on a French braid. Her curls were weaved tightly around the back of her head and had flown down into a single plait near the bottom, giving her a natural elegant look.

Draco had always thought she looked really pretty with her Beauxbatons uniform, but by merely looking at her now, he realised she could actually manage to be more and more beautiful in whatever clothing she was in. Or maybe, even more when she wouldn't wear a thing.

Draco shook his head and berated himself for that perverted thought.

Oh Merlin.

He was really getting worse by the moment.

He squinted further and placed both his hands on the sides of his face as he leaned towards the glass to see clearly.

Hermione was now laughing at something that one of her schoolmates was saying.

She looked even prettier when she'd laugh.

Adrian was also smiling but was distinctively staring at his sister, instead of the girl who was talking beside him and who obviously was trying to catch his attention. He had his hand at the small of Hermione's back. If they weren't siblings, Draco was even sure people would think they were dating.

Hermione, however, seemed to not notice a thing and seemed very comfortable with her brother. She was fondly talking to one of her schoolmates, not noticing the odd stares that her own brother was throwing at her.

It made Draco quite disturb of that tiny fact. Because for a minute there, he thought he saw Adrian staring at Hermione in the way that he would look at her, himself.

Adrian had always been very protective of his sister, so he assumed that maybe that must be it and just briefly dismissed the unsettling topic in his head.

After a few minutes, Hermione had suddenly checked the time on her pocket watch and spoke something to his companions. Adrian said something back, probably contradicting on what she had just decided to do. Later on, however, it appeared that she had won as she smiled and planted a chaste kiss on her brother's cheek before walking out for the alley alone.

Draco suddenly puffed a ragged breath when he saw her walking across the street and making her way towards the bookshop that he was in.

On her way towards the bookshop, however, she was greeted by none other than Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

Draco could swear his eyes just popped out from its sockets for a second.

So. What now?

She's friends with everybody, _except him?_

She's even friends with his bloody enemies, for fuck's sake!

She beamed and talked a little to both Potty and Weaselbee.

Those shitheads!

The two blokes also seemed to ask her something, which made her shake her head sadly and told them something, in which Draco could make form of as: "next time".

Draco smirked when the two finally went away and waved at her while walking towards the sweetshop, Honeydukes.

Weaselbee looked miserable; served him right for being too ambitious.

Draco's hand twitched a little when the little bell over the bookshop's door had clang, announcing that Hermione had finally entered the store.

Her nose and cheeks were beautifully crimsoned due to the cold breeze outside, complimenting her scarlet soft lips which were then stretched into a genuine smile. She greeted the storekeeper back and even made a little chat with the old woman.

Draco was sure everything and everyone were just lighting up whenever she was around.

"Here is the book you ordered yesterday, dear. You have a good timing. The bunch just arrived an hour or so," the storekeeper informed her while handing her the book in which she came for.

Hermione was saying her thanks to the old lady when two burly looking Durmstrang students had suddenly made their way inside the shop.

At first, Draco thought that Hermione knew them; as it seemed that by the way they were looking at her, it was as if they'd both gone inside the store just so they could talk to her.

He assumed they were already friends as the two seemed to walk directly next to her in a very personal manner.

It was only until one of them had lightly placed a hand on her bottom that Draco knew she was in trouble.

"Watch it!" Hermione shouted furiously while planting a hard slap on the guy's cheek, making it instantly redden due to the pressure.

"What iz your problem? Ve jaz vant to make friendz," the taller, grouchier looking man glowered at her.

"You don't have to be such perverts in doing so!" She snapped at them while preparing to snatch her wand inside her pocket, just in case.

"Oh, dear," the older lady shook her head worriedly while watching Hermione step back a little while being surrounded by two crabby looking guys. "Will you boys stop bothering this young girl? If you have something to buy, then—"

"Shut it, old lady! You are not joining in zis talk zat ve 'ave" The Durmstrang student spat before grabbing Hermione's arm. "So, Miz… vat about you tell us your name and zen we buy you drinks at ze Three Broomsticks, eh?"

"What about you let go of her before your headmaster shove your brainless heads on a trip back to your ugly school?"

Hermione anxiously looked around and saw Draco Malfoy pointing his wand at the two Durmstrang students. He was wearing a high neck charcoal grey suit paired with black slacks and black robes. He had a daunting expression, making it looked as if he wasn't younger than the two Durmstrang students.

"Oh yeah? Vat are you going to do about eet? It iz az if 'e iz going to believe you," one of them laughed mordantly at him.

"Not only is my father once a part of Hogwarts' school board of directors, but he'd also garnered a close friendship with your school's headmaster. I've known Igor Karkaroff since I was very young during gatherings in which _you, _brainless twats, could only dream of coming. _Your_ headmaster had once personally invited my father to let _me _study in your school. I have my connections and I'm not afraid to use them. Now if you won't believe me and continue harassing this girl, I might as well have to prove it to you, shall I?" Draco smirked when he saw the looks of intimidation plastered on each of the guys' faces.

"Ve are juz tryin' to be friendz vith 'er," one of them reasoned out, looking quite mannered now.

"Well, she doesn't want to be friends with you. End of story. Now, just get your arses out of here before I change my mind and execute my threat," he told them firmly. The Durmstrang students were about to scurry away when Draco spoke again. "Wait. One more thing, you owe her an apology."

Hermione fidgeted a little and hugged her book closer when the two started their way towards her again. The only comfort that she had was Draco's consoling hand on her shoulder.

"Ve are zorry, Miz. Ve didn't mean to. 'Ope you'll forgive uz," the man who had tried to have a feel on her bottom told her.

Hermione couldn't do or say anything but just nod and wince away, stepping back a little so she could feel Draco's reassuring presence.

"Thank you," she breathed when the guys were finally gone.

"Are you alright?" He asked her gently.

Draco had even barely recognised his own voice. He realised he had never spoken to anybody as gentle as this.

She smiled and nodded softly as her reply.

Draco looked at her and thought of her vulnerability.

Maybe this was why for days he had never stopped watching her, even only from the sides.

There was just a part of him that wanted her to always be alright.

It was even as if he was born in nature to protect her.

She was just too perfect not to be protected; like a little rose in a ground filled of grasses.

He was sure that no one in this world was as ideal as his dream girl.

A jewel like her could never belong to anybody, but _him_.

He didn't care if she already had a boyfriend, anymore.

He would show her just how blind she was for settling for someone less superior than him, Draco Malfoy.

She was a smart, beautiful, kind, elegant pureblood.

She was perfect.

She deserved to be with the only heir of the oldest pureblood family in the history of the Wizardry world.

"Hey… do you want to go somewhere? Have some butterbeers, maybe?" He softly asked her.

Hermione bit her lower lip, looking like she was trying to get pass her conflicted thoughts and make a sound decision. Draco took this time to casually place his hands on his pockets. They just couldn't stop trembling when she was this near. He refused to be too obvious with this thing, however.

"I actually… just want to go back to Hogwarts," she finally told him.

Draco needed to close his eyes a bit just to control his breathing.

Why the hell was she doing this to him?

"And I'm hoping you can accompany me. If that's alright with you," she briefly added.

Oh.

Draco wanted to grin when he realised she wasn't rejecting him, but tried to keep his cool by managing a smirk instead.

"Sure. I have nothing else to do, anyway." That was a complete lie. Tracey was obviously waiting for him at 'Gladrags Wizardwear'. But she didn't need to know that, of course.

The way to the Hogwarts' grounds was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Draco had offered to bring the book that she just ordered, which had amused her seeing that it wasn't even a bother for her to hold it since all the other things that she had bought were taken by Adrian. Her brother could be a tad too caring sometimes.

The Castle grounds was a little deserted that time as almost all the students had gone to Hogsmeade for their weekend shopping. Draco couldn't help, however, to glance at some of his schoolmates who were eyeing them warily. They were probably thinking that he was having a new conquest with a foreign student and had just dumped his latest girlfriend.

Well, the latter was going to be true afterwards, but the prior definitely wasn't.

Hermione wasn't just one of his conquests.

She was evidently more than that.

"I love it here. Everybody seems to love lazing around and just have fun," she beamed at him while looking around the peaceful castle grounds.

They were then seated on one of the benches near the Beauxbatons carriage since Draco decided it was more peaceful there than the Great Hall; plus the fact that it was nearer to her school's carriage so she wouldn't have to worry if she needed to get anything. Hermione thought this was very considerate of him to do so.

"Why? Don't you laze around and have fun at your school?" He asked.

"We do, but not so often. A typical weekend on Beauxbatons would be students practising their skills individually or by groups at the palace grounds. Some would be having some duel competitions on their own to hone their defence abilities. We should always be awake early in the morning to jog and exercise before we head for breakfast, while you guys even skip breakfast sometimes because of oversleeping," she chuckled amusedly. Draco couldn't help but be a little guilty on that one.

"Yeah, well, guess we're kind of lazier then," he shrugged while smiling a little. "Who wouldn't be when from time to time, you'll find yourself in the middle of a common room late night party?"

"You're allowed to do that?" Hermione gasped while covering her mouth with her hands, looking as if what they did was an outrageous thing to do.

"Technically not really," Draco laughed amusedly at her. "But you're allowed to when you're not caught, right?"

"But what about the prefects?" She asked, looking very concerned and involved with the situation.

"Nah. They sometimes host the parties, anyway," he replied, making her gasp in shock again.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Don't you guys do that sometimes too?"

She just shook her head.

"Are you serious?" He asked her disbelievingly.

"There were stories that the last students who did that were suspended and almost expelled. I wouldn't dare to follow their footsteps even if they're considered as heroes by some," she chuckled lightly while shaking her head.

"Where's the fun in that? You're also a teenager, you know. You have to be a little rebellious if you want to have something to laugh upon when you grow older," he told her.

"That's an interesting thought," she uttered while staring at their huge carriage not so far away.

"I can take you to some of our parties if you want to," he offered.

She gasped again. This time, it made him laugh in a carefree manner.

Honestly, when was the last time he did that?

Probably years ago; when _she_ was around too.

"No!" She chuckled while hitting him on the shoulder a little.

"I just can't believe a girl as pretty as you is such a nerd," he chortled, clutching his stomach a little and unknowingly making Hermione blush.

"Look," Draco suddenly spoke again when he noticed that she had gone a little quiet and was uneasily fiddling on her fingers. "About… last time, you know, when we last talked; I wasn't exactly being _me_. I mean, I was me_, _but not me, _me, _you know. What I'm trying to say is that, I mean, I just—well, I—dammit. I sound stupid now, don't I?" He grimaced while scratching his forehead a little.

He wanted to physically slap himself for babbling some incomprehensible nonsense and making himself look like a fool in front of her again.

"Well, I like you more today than that last time you're talking about," she softly smiled, which made him look at her astoundingly.

There was a long silence, until he spoke again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"I was the one who blew you off. I'm sorry too," she nodded while looking down shyly.

"Guess we _restarted _at the wrong foot again, then," he smiled at the memory. "I remember you, scolding me while I played with that poor carp when we first met," he added while laughing a little.

"You remember," she smiled while looking up at his grey stormy eyes, looking evidently thrilled and enchanted. She was looking at him in wonder and amazement that he was sure he couldn't stray his eyes away from her anymore. It was like magic, pulling him to her. And he didn't want to let go of that invisible force.

"Course I do. I even remember that little pretty dress you were wearing," he whispered at her. The smile on his face seemed to become very natural; so far from the smirk he usually had. "You were very cute with those fluffy ones."

"Oh my goodness!" Hermione chuckled while pulling her eyes away from him and covering her face with her hands, looking very embarrassed of the topic. Draco found this really cute. "I always hated those fluffy things my mother loved placing me into," she continued speaking in a muffled voice due to her covered hands on her flushed face.

"Well, I've always liked them," he replied while gently taking her hands off of her blushing face. "You were wearing white when I first saw you. White suits you best. I've always liked those fluffy clothes."

"You do?" She smiled quietly at him. The gentle wind had blown some of the loose curls away from her face and the small Tyndall effect that had formed from the sunbeams that glided along the small branches of the tree were like little fairies, teasing him to kiss the girl who owned them.

"I always thought you looked like an angel then," he whispered softly at her.

"What about now?" She whispered back.

"A goddess."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews. I really appreciate them! :)**

**Please make my day by sending me reviews again. God bless all!**

**Sweet love,**

**Sue :)**


	8. Close Enough

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Eight**

"**Close Enough"**

"Hey mate!"

Adrian sighed and looked around to see his classmate, Miles Bletchley, waving animatedly while he sprinted towards him, even bumping some of the busy people in the streets of Hogsmeade just so he could briefly get to him. Adrian contemplated the thought of running away, but decided he'd just be bothered again when they'd get back to their common room anyway.

"Better get this over with," he murmured to himself as he turned around to wait for his seemingly excited friend. He sighed internally while balancing some shopping bags on his arms. He had to go to the Beauxbatons' carriage to deliver Hermione's things. She tried to tell him not to bother in carrying her things for her but he still insisted. He had to make certain she'd be as comfortable as possible while she was here.

"What is it?" Adrian asked; looking evidently annoyed knowing that his friend would be discussing the same topic all over again.

"Where's your sister? I thought you guys are going shopping today," Miles grinned breathlessly at him.

"We started earlier so we're done now. I'm about to go deliver these things for her," he replied nonchalantly while lifting his things a little to emphasize that he was busy and he would really appreciate it if he'd just go away.

"I'll go help you with that, then," Miles offered. Honestly, could he even be more annoying?

"I can carry them on my own. Thank you," Adrian replied while tightening his grip on a couple of Hermione's shopping bags on his right while balancing her handbag on his left.

"I insist," Miles said while stubbornly pulling Hermione's handbag away from Adrian now.

"No, go away, Miles. I just—_shit_!" Adrian suddenly cursed when Hermione's handbag had suddenly burst open due to their constant tugging and yanking. Some of her personal things had fallen, including a small paperback book that he knew she had always carried with her every day. "Look at what you've done! This is her favorite book," he scorned at his guilty looking friend while picking up the book and whisking away some of the dirt that its cover had gathered from the alley's ground.

"I was just trying to help," Miles murmured disdainfully while finally walking away.

Adrian just rolled his eyes exasperatingly and continued to whisk away some of the dirt that had stuck on the worn out book's cover. He opened and tried to skim through its frail old pages too, just to see to it that none of it were soaked and ruined since the ground that it had fallen upon was a little damped.

He then found himself smiling gently while he scanned through the pages. The book was a compilation of muggle Greek Mythology stories that Hermione loved reading to him when they were younger.

Each of the stories brought about fond childhood memories of them together.

He curiously frowned, however, when he found something compressed on a certain page. He narrowed his eyes and discovered it wasn't a bookmark but a pressed brown dried flower. Its daffodil shaped appearance had been stuck and drawn on the page, revealing its outline and replicating its form on the old paper itself. He could tell that it had been there for years, guessing from its facade.

He slowly took the dried pressed flower out and read the title of the page.

"Pygmalion and Galatea," he whispered while caressing the very letters of the words itself.

In a very strange way, he suddenly felt his heart flutter down as a memory had abruptly pierced his mind without warning…

_Hermione never wanted to talk to anybody as she cried uncontrollably inside her room._

_Adrian hated it when she would cry._

_But what he hated the most was that he couldn't do anything to stop her from crying, because she didn't want to let him._

"_Mione? Please open the door. Please talk to me," he pleaded while leaning on the door and listening to her painful sobs. As a first year student, he'd already known a few spells and tried to unlock the door, but Hermione was pushing it with her body in order to stop him from walking in. He didn't want to hurt her so he pleaded her to open it instead._

"_Go away, Adrian. I just want to be alone for now," she sniffed behind the door. _

_That morning, the Malfoys had finally left. He didn't know what happened with Hermione and Draco at the gardens but he had seen Draco before his family and he had flooed out of the manor. He looked very distressed but also very red in contrast to his once pale skin. _

_Concerned of his sister's whereabouts, Adrian tried to look for her at the gardens. But when she saw him looking worriedly at her crying feature, she pushed him aside and ran as fast as she could to her room, slamming it with all her might. _

_Adrian was very alarmed and concerned with what happened so he told his parents about it. _

_Their mother was the only one who had entered Hermione's room. Adrian thought it was because she was the only one whom Hermione really feared in this mansion and she couldn't disobey her when she was angry like this. _

_Hermione and her mother had quite a long talk inside her room while Adrian and his father waited outside. _

_By the time that their mother had gone out, she had a small smug smile on her face and had just directly walked away as if nothing had happened._

_Adrian became even more panicked of the fact that Hermione's sobs were even louder than before. He looked up at his father for help, but he just shook his head and went to talk to his seemingly pleased wife._

"_Hermione? Are you alright? If this is about Draco, then forget about him. You knew he was going away anyway," Adrian told her through the door. He then leaned further to hear her reply, but she never did. _

_He stood there for so long that he had almost fallen asleep just by leaning on her room's door._

_It was until he heard his parents arguing in the master bedroom just a few rooms away that he stood up and walked away from Hermione's door._

_His parents had always argued, but usually they would stop doing it whenever he was around._

_He was about to knock on his parents' room to make his presence known when he suddenly heard Hermione's name._

"_This is your fault for instilling some strange, ridiculous thoughts inside Hermione's head," his father said to his mother._

"_Can't you see, __Ansleigh? This is it! This is the very reason why we took her from the Grangers at the first place. Don't blame me for doing everything that I can to pick this family up. We might let people see how powerful we still are, but you know very well that we're drowning with debts now! Don't you dare tell me that you have forgotten the very use of that child in our family? Stop accusing me as if I asked Hermione to feel that way. She did it on her own! She's the one who told me she's feeling that way. And so what if she does? It was supposed to be her purpose at the first place!" _

"_She's too young, Petrova! How can you tell her that what she's feeling is love for the Malfoy boy? She still doesn't even know what that means. You're only brainwashing her so you can get what you want. And don't dare accuse me in conniving with your twisted plans. I agreed in taking Hermione from the Grangers because I truly wanted a daughter! Please let her live her own life and stop dictating what she needs to do." His father was shouting louder now and Adrian flinched when he heard a chair toppling down the wooden floor._

"_I don't care what you say or think about me! The Malfoys don't know that she's not our daughter. And once Hermione marries their only son, we'll also be a part of their family. Imagine it, Ansleigh! Imagine the extravagance and security I will have that you've failed on providing me of. Hermione will turn into a beautiful lady and the Malfoy boy will do everything for her. And of course, as a dutiful daughter, she'll do everything that I'll say. How wonderful, isn't it?" A piercing laugh could be heard and Adrian stepped back, feeling his heart drop when he knew that Hermione wasn't his sister. _

"_Can you even hear yourself? You're beginning to scare me, Petrova. You will not use our daughter like that!" His father shouted, but his mother just laughed as her reply._

_Her laugh was frightening. It was as if she had become a lunatic. _

_Adrian pressed his hands on each of his ears while running towards Hermione's still closed door._

"_Hermione! Open the door! Open it now!" He demanded as he started pounding on her door urgently. He then took his wand out of his pocket and magically opened it. When he heard the door clicked, he slowly opened it so he wouldn't be able to hurt her if she was still in the way._

_It opened without any interruption and so he entered cautiously. _

_He looked around the room and saw Hermione hugging one of her stuffed toys and still crying in the corner._

_He suddenly had the urge to protect her from their parents. _

_She would and always be his sister. _

_Nothing would change no matter what._

"_Mione, please stop crying now," he said soothingly while gathering her into his arms. _

"_I kissed him in the lips, Adrian," she sniffed, looking up at his brother with wide uncertain eyes. _

_Adrian honestly didn't know what to react to what she just said._

"_Mother said it's because I'm in love with him," she sobbed while snuggling into his embrace._

"_No, you're not. Don't listen to her," Adrian pursed his lips, hating his own mother for making Hermione feel this way and for planning on using her for her own benefits. _

"_But I do!" Hermione pleaded while pulling on his slightly tearstained shirt. "I want to be with him. I want to always be with Draco, and I miss him so much now that it even hurts. I'm in love with him, Adrian! Mother said it's a very heavy responsibility, especially that I've…I-I've kissed him," Hermione told him, her voice filled with worry and apprehension and it was as if she had done a very grave act._

"_Ssh… It's not your fault," Adrian shook his head while hugging her tightly and rubbing her back as she cried harder._

_From then on, Adrian had promised that he would never ever let anyone hurt her again._

_He would shower her with all his attention and protect her no matter what._

_He now knew she wasn't his sister, but he still cared greatly for her. He knew it wouldn't change anything. _

_He didn't know how his parents had taken her away from her real family, but there was only one thing he knew he would make certain of: He would never let them use her._

"_Can I borrow your owl, Adrian?" Hermione sniveled, still clutching desperately on his ruffled shirt. Being ahead from his sister, he already had his own owl, as it was one of their requirements at Hogwarts._

"_Why?" He asked, even if he already knew the reason._

"_I want to send Draco a letter. We promised that we won't forget each other," she looked up at him with big innocent doe eyes. _

_Adrian frowned and thought for a while._

_By letting her borrow his owl, he knew that he would only be helping his mother's selfish agenda._

_Hermione was still very confused and she was too young to know what she was really feeling._

_He needed to stop this lunacy before it would get worse._

_He would never allow his mother to use her._

_Unless…_

"_Alright. You'll write your letter and give them to me. I'll make sure my owl sends it to Draco. I'll also wait for his letters for you, if you want to. Mother and father are very strict. They'll get mad if you're receiving letters on your own. I'm already a student, so I can receive one. They won't know it since they'll just think that it's just one of my classmates' letters for me. I'll check all the letters for you, Mione, so you won't need to worry in waiting for them," he told her._

"_Thank you, Adrian!" Hermione beamed happily while hugging her brother once again. _

_He nodded and wiped some of the tears that still crept endlessly on her cheeks. He looked at his little sister and saw how vulnerable she looked. Her nose and cheeks were red because of her crying. _

_He promised he wouldn't let her cry anymore._

_He would protect her from anything. _

_He didn't know what kind of people her real parents were, and he didn't want to know._

_Hermione could have anything here. What if her real parents wouldn't care about her? What if they were bad people? What if they couldn't give her the things that she needed?_

_No._

_He couldn't let Hermione know of this and ruin her life and future._

_He would keep this secret with him in his grave if that was the only way to keep her safe._

_Hermione wrote her first letter for Draco and gave it to her brother with high hopes and great trust. It made Adrian feel very guilty, but he knew he was just doing the right thing._

_He kept all the letters she had written for Draco so the latter could never receive it. Every day, he would wake up early to gather the Daily Prophet and all the other letters, making sure to keep Draco's letters for her so she wouldn't be able to see them. His parents thought it was very responsible of him to wake up early and deliver the letters for everyone. Hermione even thanked him for doing this for her._

_If only she knew…_

_But she would never know it. _

_He made sure of that as he had even passed by the windows from time to time, being very vigilant of any owl in sight so he could keep its carried letter for Hermione._

_Hermione did become very miserable of the fact that she had never received a single letter from Draco, but Adrian was always there to swerve her attention so she would forget about him. _

_It was a tough job._

_Hermione wrote a letter for Draco every day even if she never received any reply back._

_But Adrian had been successful at the end._

_On the day before she was finally going away for France, she had finally written her one last letter to Draco. _

_Adrian told her it was better that way._

_He told her to pour all her feelings to that one last letter so she could move on and forget about him._

_He knew that the letter wouldn't reach Draco, but it would serve as a closure for Hermione._

_It would help her to move on._

_When Hermione finally handed her last letter to him, Adrian couldn't help but be proud of his little sister and be ashamed of his own self._

_But he took pride of the fact that he did it for her._

_She would thank him someday._

_On the day that Hermione was finally going away, she cried into his arms and told him that she would miss him._

_She was crying but he was happy because finally, she was crying for him and not for Draco…_

_He didn't know where that thought had come from, but it just made him happy that he was finally more important to her than the boy she had claimed to be in love with._

_They wrote letters for each other through the years and he also had never failed on visiting her during the holidays. He would often beg his parents to see Hermione whenever he could. There were times when his parents needed to travel for some business trips and would instruct him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, but then he would beg them to let him stay at France, instead. _

_Through the years, he had become extra fond of his sister._

_It wasn't her fault, of course._

_It was just the fact that she was becoming more and more beautiful every time he would visit her._

_She had grown so fast and had just become… prettier._

_He didn't know when and how these strange feelings inside of him had developed._

_He guessed it started on that one sunny summer afternoon, when he first saw her swimming at the lake only with her tank top and a pair of boyshort panties._

_She had looked so enticing while she floated along the waters. She had her eyes closed towards the sun as her arms and legs slowly fanned around her to keep her body floating above the waters. Her womanly figure and sun-kissed skin seemed to gleam while she slithered with the waters, unknowingly tempting him. _

_That time made him realize that she was no longer a child._

_He knew it was very wrong of him to even think of her that way._

_It was just near creepy._

_She was still his sister, even if they weren't related, after all._

_But everything was just inescapable._

_If he hadn't known that she wasn't his real sister, then it could have been different and he wouldn't have been plagued by these strange thoughts and feelings._

_But he did know._

_He had tried so hard to convince himself that even if he'd known the truth, she would and always be his sister. Yet, it was just too inevitable not to look at her in a different way… especially when she was growing more and more exquisite each day._

"_Adrian? Do you think Pygmalion would have had stayed in love with Galatea even if the temple goddess hadn't turned her into a real human?" Hermione asked. They were currently having a picnic at Aunt Genevieve's garden. It was one of her favorite places in the manor grounds. _

"_Why do you want to know?" Adrian asked her back. She was wearing a bare shouldered dress and he just couldn't help but stare at her flawless porcelain skin. She looked so innocent and clearly unaware of his stares, but that even lured him more._

_She was just too close._

_She was close enough to feel… close enough to kiss. _

_But sadly, he could only be close enough. _

_He couldn't do anything but just to be close enough._

"_Because I think he'd be forever in love with her, anyway. No matter what she was and to where she had come from," she told him. "People may think he was foolish, but he did everything he could do so he wouldn't be settling for an unrequited love. Even if Galatea stayed as a stone forever, his love still wouldn't be in vain. I just know he'd still be in love with her even without the goddess' gift."_

"_Still, it was a bit crazy of him to fall in love with a stone," Adrian replied._

"_No matter; I still find it very romantic," she smiled dreamily at the wind. _

"_If that story matters to you very much, you should place something nice on it. Here," he smiled while giving her a rose and placing it in between of the pages. "Now you'll remember how romantic that story is. Usually, men who are in love give their ladies flowers."_

_Hermione was quiet for a while, until she finally spoke softly, "Draco once gave me a daffodil." _

Adrian sighed heavily while carefully placing the daffodil back into the book, wondering what had happened to the rose that he had given her.

Perhaps, she had thrown it away.

He was wrong.

After all these years, he still wasn't as important as the boy she had claimed to be in love with.

* * *

**A/N: I'd like to say sorry for not placing any Dramione interactions in this chapter. But I just really need to let you guys have a peek on Adrian's thoughts and whereabouts while Draco and Hermione were sweetly chatting at the bench near the Beauxbatons' carriage. :)**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! And please send me some reviews? Thank you guys and God bless. :)**

**And oh, I appreciate all your reviews and observations, especially on Adrian's feelings. So here it is, the answer to all your questions. :D**

**Love,**

**Sue**


	9. She's a Woman Now

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Nine**

"**She's a Woman Now"**

Draco smiled as he stared into Hermione's flushing cheeks. He could tell that her blush went all the way down her neck and into her coat covered flesh. It was beautiful to look at.

It amused him on how much his words could do so much wonders on her.

The crimson shade that seemed to have traveled down her porcelain skin was too beautiful and so intriguing that he was almost tempted to picture her out without her coat again. Until he remembered she was _Hermione_ and not just any other girl he could get to bed with.

He paused to think about that concept.

Since when did he actually have a conscience like this?

He smiled at the thought and realized that he always had this ever since he was young.

He had always separated Hermione among the others.

She was always special, in some utterly striking way.

Sure, he never had this crazy lust inside his system before but he had always wanted to be with Hermione and he didn't want her to even look at any other boy except him. He was even jealous to her brother too.

Everything was simpler that time.

They were children, and he honestly thought that he could just snatch Hermione away from everyone and they could live happily and play with anything they wanted. He even contemplated on asking her to elope with him, though he honestly didn't know the whole meaning of that, at the time. Though he knew that if he did ask her, she would say yes.

But she's a woman now.

So far from the old little girl who could do everything he wanted.

And that even intensified this impossible enthrallment he had with her.

Now, he wanted _all_ of her.

No matter what it would take him, he was determined to have her.

"I-I don't think you should go on telling me that," she stammered while fiddling with the paper bag of her newly purchased book. The ridges of the bag even appeared to be ruffled and torn due to her jittery exploits.

"What? I can't give you a compliment now?" He smirked impishly at her, trying to get in as much of her flowery scent as he scooted closer and stared at her.

She bit her lower lip and looked down; refusing to answer anything but also couldn't decide to move away from him. He frowned when he realized that his last compliment didn't just make her blush, but it also made her quite uneasy and uncomfortable.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked her quietly. "I really meant it, you know. I don't just give compliments to people. I really think you're—"

"Please stop. No," she shook her head worriedly while still looking down at her shaky fingers. It was just wrong. She knew it was nothing for him but it was still very wrong to lead her on like that.

They were doing it again.

They were flirting with each other, _again_.

She knew that he was already committed to someone else and she felt like the other girl here.

It was just so wrong in so many levels.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Draco asked, quite perturbed and also a bit worried now too. He looked as if he really was questioning himself and trying to figure out what he did that upset her.

"Nothing; I just don't think that we should do this," she sighed while staring at him disbelievingly. How could he be forgetting that he already had a girlfriend? She had always been a feminist and what she hated the most was a man who couldn't give any importance to the girl he was with.

"Why? What are we doing?" Draco asked, looking confounded but in some twisted way, also quite amused of her now too.

"_This_." Hermione looked a bit annoyed as she opened her arms in the air to emphasize what she meant.

"What _this_?" He suddenly smirked. Hermione honestly wanted to wipe that maddening smirk off his face.

"_This_," she said while gritting her teeth but also blushing furiously. She swore her body was too warm now to even need a coat.

"Say it then," he whispered tauntingly. He said it in a very husky voice that gathered uncalled Goosebumps on her nape.

"W-Were… kind of flirting with each other, Draco," she finally said, refusing to meet his eyes and looking unbelievably embarrassed as if she was naked in front of him. Well, Draco wished she was.

Dammit.

He shifted a little to clean that dirty thought off his head.

"So? It's wrong because?" He asked her, failing to stop his once again, unconscious smirk.

"Because you can't," Hermione looked a bit enraged. Wasn't the answer too obvious, already? He was just teasing her and he was just successfully gaining the effect.

"Well, I believe we're doing it now, don't you?" He told her. His eyes were gleaming at her in a teasing, predatory manner. It almost made her give in.

Almost.

"I have to go," she breathed deeply; too deeply that she nearly even choked. She couldn't believe just how much effect he really had on her.

"I don't want you to," he replied firmly as if it was up to him whether she goes or not.

"You can't just ask me that," she uttered, looking outraged as she stood up and faced him. He was still seated and the chance of being able to look down at him gave her a shot of dominance.

"Why? I can ask anything I want," he shrugged, still locking his hypnotic eyes on her.

"There are some… limitations, Draco. Surely you must have known that," she griped back at him.

"I can do and say anything I want. When I want to say you're a goddess to me, I can say it. When I say I mean it, I really mean it. When I say I want to kiss you, I won't just say it but I'll really do it," he told her seriously as he stood up and faced her, now gaining the dominance because of his height. "Do you say what you want to say too, Hermione? Or do you let your _limitations_ rule you? Are you _really_ your own person? Do you want to kiss me too?" He added this with a whisper and with so much passion and taunt in his voice that she suddenly couldn't even step back.

She was too lost inside those burning grey and blue specks that she hadn't even noticed that their noses were touching now.

"You have a girlfriend," she warned him in a whisper, but didn't step back.

"I'll break up with her," he replied briefly.

He said it too certainly and with no confusion at all. That was when Hermione finally had the will to step back and look at him infuriatingly. "How can you say that as if she has no value to you?" She asked him, looking a bit hurt and disappointed of his behavior. Yet, deep inside, she also couldn't help to feel that little evil relief that his girlfriend wasn't that important to him. She was conflicted to no end, knowing just how wrong this was and that she was an eager participant of a brewing dishonest affair… the thing that she had so keenly hated the most and condemned every time she was on stage for a public speech or debate.

"Because she's nothing to me," Draco answered her tightly.

"That's what dishonest men say when they want to have an affair," she dispute back, her feminist side kicking in.

"What the fuck? Hermione, I'm just breaking up with her, okay? It's not as if I'm married with her or something," he sneered at her and was obviously trying to stifle a laugh.

"Don't dare laugh at me! Don't dare talk about this like it's no big deal! You can't just break up with someone you're in a relationship with, Draco!" She shouted furiously at him.

"Why? Because you can't with _yours_?" He suddenly shouted back, looking hurt all of a sudden.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That's the point! I don't want to talk about it! Don't you dare accuse me of things that you don't even know? _No one_ tells me what to do, Hermione. And if I say I can do anything, I _mean_ it! It's not my usual doing to place empty threats and I will shove a bloody knife inside _anyone_ who could ever have _you_!"

"What are you talking about? You're making no sense! Just shut up!"

"Okay then," Draco uttered and had instantly scooped her waist and plunged down to kiss her straight on the lips.

Hermione had _never_ felt so shocked but unbelievably enthuse all her life.

She tried to fight him a little but her wobbly knees and frail arms just couldn't do anything to compete with her racing heart.

She had never kissed anyone like this before, but no one warned her as to when or how.

The first kiss she had with Draco before was just too innocent and sweet. She had always thought kisses would always be like that.

They never taught her this in classes.

But now she knew why.

It was all instinct as she grabbed his nape and felt his soft baby fine hair at the back of his head. His ministrations were just too tempting that she ended up opening her mouth to let him do what he wanted. It was so clear that he was the dominant one in this dance but she couldn't help but give in and repeat his actions.

She honestly didn't know what she was doing, but it just felt so… good.

It felt so good that she just wanted to drown in that moment. The feeling was too invigorating and beguiling that she had almost toppled down if not for his viselike grip on her. She wasn't even sure if she was the one who had moaned first or him.

Merlin, she wasn't even sure if she was still breathing.

"Ten O'clock this night," he finally uttered through ragged breath while still caressing her lips with his own as if he was an addict finally having his drug. "I'll wait for you outside your carriage."

"W-We're not allowed to go out that late," she whimpered, still unable to make sense of anything due to her fluttered eyes and battled racing heart.

"You're allowed to when you're not caught," he whispered back, repeating his very words to her when he told her about the Slytherins' rebellious parties. He then bent down to kiss her again. This time it was slow and measured, almost as if he didn't want it to end. "I won't go unless you come," he whispered before finally walking away, his hands on his pockets.

Hermione stayed rooted on the spot with her hands on her chest until Adrian arrived, looking confused and worried of her state and that her newly purchased book was laying abandoned on the dirty, slightly soggy ground.

* * *

It was quite a cheery and noisy noontime at Hogwarts. The Durmstrang students were currently eating their meals with much pleasure as they chatted among their group while throwing some rowdy jokes here and there. The Hogwarts students they've invited to sit with them seemed to also rather enjoy the company.

The Beauxbatons students were the most discreet of the occupants. They've also invited some guests to sit with them, mostly those from the Ravenclaws who seemed tactful enough to be quiet and well-mannered as they ate with the decorous Beauxbatons students.

Other Hogwarts students were busy studying while eating; probably those who still had tests to come after lunch.

Everybody seemed to be doing their own businesses.

Well, except Hermione.

How could she even do anything when she just kissed the ex-boyfriend of the girl who was wailing in front of her food just across from her?

"Sorry for this," Adrian whispered at Hermione while frowning at the bawling girl in front of them. Hermione was invited by Adrian and his friends to sit with them at their table for lunch, but no one expected the unforeseen show.

"He's such an arsehole!" Tracey Davies howled while taking all the napkins that she could get which were then offered to her by her friends. She was seated between the slender haughty looking blonde girl and a girl who had smugly stared at Hermione up and down before giving her attention to her friend and offering her some napkins. Hermione thought she was a bit pug-faced, but she wouldn't dare tell anybody about that if she didn't want to have any enemy, of course.

"That's Pansy Parkinson and the blonde is Daphne Greengrass. Fourth years too, your age," Adrian whispered at Hermione when he saw her looking at them.

She just nodded and tried to smile sympathetically at the girls. Daphne smiled back at her and gave her a look that suggested how annoyed she was of Tracey's exaggerated break down, while Pansy just nodded complacently at her.

"Draco's such a git, isn't he? He probably just saw another girl fit to be played with so he broke up with her. The girl he's probably hooked up with knows how to flirt better," Adrian told Hermione who almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

"Hey, are you alright?" Adrian asked while patting her back a bit.

She just nodded and coughed some more, still grimacing from the juice that seemed to have traveled on her paranasal sinuses and gave her a tingling headache for quite a while.

She had never done something like this all her life.

She felt like her conscience was going to swallow her whole any second.

She just couldn't be guiltier than what she was feeling right now as she looked at the girl who was the victim of her stupid deed.

She just participated in the act of infidelity by kissing someone's boyfriend.

She suddenly felt quite groggy while clutching on her chest, knowing that her heart was compensating on the rush of guilty blood inside her system.

She couldn't believe it.

She never even had any relationship before and now she was trying to steal someone's boyfriend?

For pity's sake, she had never even kissed anyone except him too!

_Well, it's too late. You already stole him, Hermione. And yes, you just had a good round of snogging session with the poor girl's beau. You're such an evil witch._

Hermione felt like fainting while listening to the little voice inside her head. She wanted to cry and torture herself for this unwarrantable act.

She was raised to be a proper lady with a proper decorum and a squeaky clean conscience.

How could she hurt someone like this just because of her childish unfeasible dream?

"Damn, look at the jerk… happily laughing as if nothing happened," Adrian suddenly spoke while glaring towards the Durmstrang table.

And sure enough, there was Draco Malfoy, laughing and joking raucously with some of the Durmstrang students who seemed to really enjoy his funny tale. Beside him was a dark skinned, handsome but arrogant looking Hogwarts student who seemed very proud of his current seat next to the popular Quidditch player, Viktor Krum.

Hermione also saw the two Durmstrang students who had tried to harass her at Hogsmeade. They were seated slightly in the distance from the group and were quietly and grumpily eating with the other less favored students. She assumed Draco and his friend had the popular group's favor as they were both seated with Viktor Krum as if they were kings celebrating a victorious war.

"Look at him, acting like he owns the whole school. I'm telling you, Hermione, Draco Malfoy isn't the guy you want to associate with," Adrian told her warningly.

Hermione gulped and nodded nervously as her reply.

This seemed to be good enough to Adrian as he then started chatting with his classmate just beside him.

Hermione breathed hard while she transferred her vision to the sobbing Tracey Davies and back to Draco Malfoy, who seemed to have wiped a little tear from his eyes due to too much laughing.

The irony of the scene couldn't be more obvious to her.

The right decision was splayed _right in front_ of her.

Draco Malfoy was just too dangerous.

She had tried not to hurt anyone and be kind to anyone in all her existence, but because of him, she had just unconsciously tortured a poor innocent girl.

No.

She just couldn't let this happen.

She had promised to stand by her Beauxbatons virtues and she would _never_ ever let a single person ruin that.

Yes.

Hermione was so sure.

She was _damn_ sure of her decision of not meeting Draco this night.

Until her eyes went straight to his lips…

Suddenly, breathing was too much of a labor to do.

She could feel the Goosebumps coursing all throughout her body.

She was scared.

She was scared to death.

She was scared to death because she just realized that she could actually do _anything _for a single kiss from Draco Malfoy.

* * *

**A/N: Just want to say thank you for all your reviews! You guys make me smile every time I got to read them. :D And yay for Dramione's second real kiss. :)**

**Keep on tuning! Have a blessed Sunday :)**

**Sweet kiss,**

**Sue**


	10. It was Addicting

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Ten**

"**It was Addicting"**

It was a cold but starry night once again as Draco looked up from their usual bench outside the Beauxbatons carriage. He suddenly remembered the time when he used to count them with Hermione when they were younger. He would rant endlessly for not being able to count them all but it was always okay because she would just end up laughing anyway. He was such a bratty kid. He wondered how the hell she was even able to put up with him.

Last night was quite a bright night too, though he hadn't really noticed it up until she had to go back to their enchanted carriage.

At first, he was a bit apprehensive of the fact that maybe she wouldn't come. He had caught sight of her yesterday afternoon at the hall. He smiled at her but she had only looked at him with uncertainty and trepidation on her face. It was even as if she was scared of him.

All of those doubts, however, had vanished by the time she had shown herself last night.

She was a bit late, probably still very indecisive of everything, but he could forgive her for that.

There was no time for any awkwardness to occur or small introductions when she arrived. They just stared at each other, as if they were old nomadic people, finally being able to see their own kind.

It wasn't awkward to stare at her.

She was a pretty sight to behold.

In fact, he could do it forever.

Well, until they kissed, that is.

He was even pretty sure they had kissed more than talk last night. She was such an eager participant of it too. And it drove him nuts.

She was this quaint little prudent girl, but he knew there was just this fire burning inside that frail feature.

He could tell it by the way she had kissed him. She had done it with so much passion and fervor that had astounded him.

He refused to think about the fact that she had a boyfriend, and maybe she had learnt that with him. Instead, he had focused on her soft supple lips and limber body. He didn't want to take advantage of the situation, but he took every opportunity that he could get. If she didn't want him touching her at a certain way, he would know. He would have had stopped if that happened.

She hadn't given him any trace of uncertainty and hesitation, however, so he started on letting loose and fed his craving for her while deepening the kiss and being much bolder than he intended.

It was only when he started kissing her neck that she had all of a sudden pushed him away. That was when he knew that she had never done anything like this before.

He would never forget the way she looked that night.

She looked very flushed, almost glowing with the heat from her skin. Her labored breathing made her chest rise up and down from her ruffled coat covered nightdress, as if teasing him to feel them. Her slightly opened swollen lips were crimsoned as it shined over the dimly lit surroundings. She had very fiery curious eyes, almost as if she was a scientist who just discovered something amazing but dangerous at the same time.

She was too beautiful that he couldn't look away, but she also looked like the most conflicted girl in the world.

Curiosity but also guilt was etched so perceptibly on her innocent crimsoned face.

When he tried to ask her what's wrong, she just told him that she needed to go. Before she could get inside, however, he told her that he was going to wait for her the same time the following night again. She didn't answer him, but he would wait for her again, anyway.

And now, he was here, trying to muse over her reaction last night. He couldn't corner her and talk to her earlier this day because she was always with that overprotective brother of hers, so he decided to just wait for her outside her carriage, wishing so hard that his kisses were enough for her to come out and see him again.

He took out his pocketwatch which informed him that it was already a quarter to eleven. He had been waiting here for almost an hour already.

He could feel his heart thrumming inside his chest as he rubbed his aching temple a little.

He just couldn't figure out her sometimes, but he knew it would really crush him if she wouldn't see him today.

In fact, he was even thinking of getting inside the carriage by any means just to get to her and… kiss her.

He just wanted to kiss her again.

If she didn't want him touching her, then it was alright. He would stop himself; just as long as she'd let him kiss her.

It was addicting.

He had always loved kissing, of course.

But he wasn't as addicted as this, like he could burst out any second if he couldn't stroke those supple lips of hers to his own.

He could still feel the tingling sensation she had so effortlessly drawn out of him just because of her kisses. It was too intoxicating to stop getting lost in the moment and he had barely stopped himself last night. He would really have to keep his self-control tonight if he didn't want to scare her away again.

He sat there waiting for almost another hour again that he had almost fallen asleep.

He was starting to get frustrated as he kicked on some stones on the ground while contemplating on throwing some small ones to her window; the problem was that he didn't know which one among the huge coach was her room so he gave it a rest.

By the time the clock strike at midnight, he was already muttering some profanities. But he would stay there until sunrise if he needed to.

He didn't even know what's the point of all these, all he knew was that he just really wanted to see her _now_.

He could even accept it if she wouldn't let him kiss her again, just as long as she would show herself to him _now_.

He knew he was already on the state of bargaining, but he didn't care.

He wanted to see her so bad.

He was about to stand up and kick some stones again when the door to the carriage had finally opened.

He stopped breathing for a while when she just stood there beside the door, staring at him.

Her steps along the stairway of the carriage seemed to have even synchronized with his heartbeat, torturing him bit by bit, second by second.

It was frustrating, standing there and waiting when all he really wanted to do was to run into her and hold her so she wouldn't be able to go away again.

"Hi," she breathed as she finally stood in front of him.

"Hi," he replied back.

There was a very long silence… even the breeze had decided on mocking them as it slithered along the place as quietly as possible.

And then, they kissed again.

No one knew who kissed who first. It didn't matter as they had almost stumbled down the stony ground while they kissed and snogged as if there was no tomorrow.

Draco groaned as he plunged his hand on her long curls while the other groped her waist, trying to feel as much of her but he just couldn't get enough.

He now had his limitations by trying his very best to stop his hands from touching her breasts and some of her intimate places. He knew she wouldn't allow him to do that. He might scare her away again and now, it was a deathly option as he was damn sure he was going to die if she would go and leave him again.

It was just too insane on how much sensations she could blatantly get from him just through this.

All of a sudden, all his kept feelings through the years had built up inside of him, all his frustrations and questions hung like a broken pedestal as he roamed his hands all over her body. He needed to stop himself before he'd lost control again, making Hermione whine due to the lost of contact when he suddenly pushed her away.

But by then he knew he just had to ask her. He had to ask the very question that had tormented him through the years before he would lose his mind. "Why didn't you write me back? Why did you break your promise? Why did you forget about me?" He uttered breathlessly. He sounded accusatory, but he didn't care. They could have had this long before if only she hadn't ignored him and disregarded his feelings. If she hadn't cut their communication, he could have had done everything he could to go to France and visit her during his holidays instead of going home in that huge lonely mansion. But she had made it clear that she didn't want to do anything with him.

"What are you talking about? I sent you letters even if I've never received anything from you, Draco. I kept my promise and wrote to you long letters every day. You just don't know how much you broke my heart when you went away and when you never send any single letter back," she told him sincerely, almost heartbreakingly that it made him a bit guilty. Her eyes were gleaming in contrast of the dim ambiance as she tried her hardest to even her breathing. She looked too confused and distressed that he couldn't help but hold her tightly while his head spiraled in confusion.

"I-I never received any letter from you," he uttered at the crook of her neck, trying to take back his harsh tone a while ago. He really didn't know. All these years, he really thought she had forgotten about him.

"Me too," she replied while nodding and closing her eyes on his embrace, still breathing labouredly. "B-But what happened to them? I'm so sure Adrian sent them to you and he always checked all my mails and…" Hermione's voice suddenly faltered when a thought had went whirling inside her.

"The bastard!" Draco suddenly burst out upon hearing her words. "I knew it! I knew there's really something wrong with that guy!"

"D-Draco, please… I don't think Adrian could ever do that," Hermione reasoned, trying to defend her brother even if the uncertainty in her voice was very apparent.

"Oh yeah? Then what about your boyfriend he's talking about?"

"W-What? I never had any boyfriend, Draco."

"Fuck! Fuck! _Fuck!_ I knew it! Dammit, how could I be so stupid?" Draco looked more than livid now as he paced to and fro like a mad person. His hair was completely messed up due to his raving hands and the activities they've done earlier.

"Draco, calm down, _please_." Hermione came nearer to hold his hand while placing her other hand on his cheek to caress it. He had his jaw clenched in anger but he somehow calmed down under her ministrations.

"He told everyone that you're already taken," Draco told her softly while holding her closer to him, making sure that she was his now and not anyone else's.

"He must have just done it to protect me, Draco. Adrian can be a little overboard at times. He just—"

"And the letters? What about them? They just disappeared, then?" He told her challengingly, adding to her already conflicted mind.

"But this is _Adrian_! He cares for my welfare," she protested, still thinking on how impossible this was because her brother had been nothing but caring and good to her. "He can't possibly deceive me, Draco. He doesn't want to see me hurt. He loves me."

"Yeah, maybe a little bit too much, too," Draco sneered mockingly. He looked suddenly disgusted of his sick thought.

"What?" Hermione muttered, looking very confused and conflicted.

"I'm sorry to ask this, but do you _really_ know your own brother? Is he really like a saint to you that he can't do anything like this?"

"Draco! Stop it! T-This is Adrian we're talking about," Hermione griped back. She was however, looking very troubled of what they had just discovered. There was frankly, no other person who could have had kept all her letters. She gave them all to Adrian, placing all her trust to him. All her life, she had _never_ doubted him like this. He was her hero, somehow. Adrian had always been there for her in anything. He had stood up for her and had even answered back their mother at times just so he could defend her.

It just stung so much, knowing that she really didn't know him, after all.

"I'm so sorry about this, Hermione. But the truth is perfectly displayed here. _He_ did all of these. He kept all our letters. He walked around saying you're taken so no one can have you, so _I _can't have you," he told her.

"B-But why?" She pleaded, still in the state of denial and confusion.

"I don't know…" Draco uttered. It just didn't feel right to tell her about his suspicions, no matter how he hated the guy. It was just plain sick and too impossible when being thought logically. "But I'm very sure of one thing; I won't let him stop me from having you."

* * *

Adrian sighed while lingering his palm on the embossed titles of the arrayed books residing in the huge bookshelf. He was still very worried of the fact that Hermione wasn't there when he went to fetch her at the Beauxbatons' couch this morning. Her schoolmates told him that she had left earlier for breakfast. It was very unlikely, because Hermione had always loved jogging and she would often stay behind to do her morning exercise with her schoolmates after. It was her daily routine to also wait for him after their jog so they could go to breakfast together.

He tried to look for her at the great hall but she also wasn't there so the second option was to go to the library. The choosing of the champions was going to be just a day from now so he thought she must have already started her early study and research in order to help their future participant. It was just too strange however, that she would miss even breakfast just for that.

It was when he suddenly heard a little shriek from a certain corner that he became even more wary. He treaded softly while going nearer to the sound. The library had very little occupants since it was too early, making it a bit disturbing to hear voices such as these; especially now that it seemed like the little scream transformed into secretive giggles.

Even with no proper reason at all, he could feel his heart thudding noisily amongst the quiet milieu as he stepped closer to the sound. Apparently, those two students were behind a certain bookshelf to hide whatever sickening thing they were doing.

He quietly crept closer and was about to step out and scold them when his heart suddenly dropped as he witnessed the scene.

Right in front of him was a girl being kissed and snogged excessively by the blonde jerk, Draco Malfoy. She was pressed between his body and the shelf. He had both her hands pinned above her head while his other hand was entwined tightly and possessively around her waist.

But it wasn't the reason why he had almost lost all the coherent logical sense left of him.

The reason was the little tiny detail that the girl being snogged senseless was none other than Hermione.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and for all your reviews! I'll really appreciate it if you can place another review and tell me what you think of this chapter ;) Have a blessed day!**

**Sue**


	11. Her Confession

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Eleven**

"**Her Confession"**

"What in the name of—!"

Hermione and Draco whipped around and saw Adrian, murderously looking at them like he could kill anyone in a blink second.

Hermione felt like her whole body had jolted due to too much shock and the overwhelming things she was feeling at the moment. It was as if someone had shoved her inside a bucket filled with ice just right after basking under the heat of the sun. Everything was too irrepressible, she almost felt delirious, almost like fainting in an instant.

Maybe it was also the very reason why she hadn't noticed that the wand just inside her pocket was now flying towards Adrian's grip in a flash. Everything was just like a lightning. She could even swear that the time difference was only a couple of seconds when she suddenly found that Adrian was now diving for Draco.

She could only terrifyingly scream when both had brutally knocked on a nearby desk as they beat each other to death. Adrian had already cut Draco's lower lip for his first blow, but the younger student wouldn't let him prevail as he also tried to injure the other by kicking and punching him as much as he could so he could get out of his cornered state.

It was a devastating bloodied scene, seeing two people you cared about kill each other with no hesitancy.

She could even swear she had heard some bones cracked to either one of them as she cried outrageously and ran as fast as she could to get some aide to the Hogwarts' school librarian, Madame Pince, when she knew that none of them were listening to her anymore.

It was quite surreal when everything went too fast but also so devastatingly too slow to stop the two from doing enough damage to each other.

When the help came, Hermione was sure she was going to lose her reason to breathe.

Both had been injured really badly. Draco earned deep bruises, wounds, a split lip and a broken arm. It was a good thing that Madame Pomfrey was able to heal them without delay. Adrian also gained some bruises and wounds, though not as much as Draco seeing that Adrian had the upper hand for cornering him and knocking him on the desk at the first place. The only serious injury he harbored was a fractured lower limb he had earned when Draco tried to topple him over to gain dominance, making him fall back mercilessly on the desk's stand.

Professor Snape and Madame Maxime had also come to interrogate them. The Slytherin house Professor was seething, seeing that both his students were in a fight, not to mention that they were also in the same Quidditch team.

Madame Maxime looked very disappointed of Hermione, though she had constantly declared that her student had nothing to do with this and that Snape's students were the ones who had caused the trouble. She had even smugly pointed out that Hermione was a model student, and that she believed that she was the one who had witnessed the fight and ended it by reporting the two to Madame Pince so she needed to be thanked for and not punished.

This statement was however, confirmed by both Adrian and Draco, making Professor Snape more than incensed. Without any further questions, he had granted them two weeks of detention before storming out of the room with his infamous cape billowing harshly around the tensed air. He was very mad for being humiliated in front of the foreign Headmistress and both his students knew that their detention would be more than enough for any punishment coming their way.

Hermione was left speechless to what Adrian and Draco did. They had left her out of this even though she was really the reason why they'd almost killed each other at the first place.

Her Headmistress was greatly pleased of the outcome and had even praised her for her supposedly heroic deed before going out of the room. A look of triumph and pride was visibly plastered on her aristocratic face.

And now, Hermione was left crying.

She was crying in frustration, guilt, worry, anger and all the other emotions so cruelly rammed inside her.

All her life, she neither lied nor took any selfish recognition like this.

And the fact that both the people she cared about were terribly hurt because of her just pulled the last straw.

How could her stay in Hogwarts ruin her like this?

"Mione, don't cry. Please, stop crying," Draco uttered while tenderly wiping her tearstained cheeks. She was currently sitting on a small stool between the beds of the two occupants, though her chair was notably moved away from her brother and nearer to Draco.

"Don't touch her like that as if you're concerned of her or something!" Adrian suddenly spat at Draco from his bed. He looked very outraged but was too helpless and couldn't stand up due to his broken leg. "How could you do that, Hermione? Bloody fucking hell, you just turned fifteen! You're a _child_, dammit! I told you he's a bad influence on you! I told you—"

"Yes!" Hermione had suddenly stood up to face her raging brother. Her hands were enclosed into trembling fists at her sides in anger as she cried outrageously. "You told me everything! You told me everything but they're all lies!"

"W-What are you—?" Adrian suddenly looked sick, even almost cyanotic in appearance.

"I know everything, Adrian! Why? Did you honestly think you can keep this from me? Why did you do this? _Of all people_, why should it be _you_? Why should you be the one to hurt me like this?" She cried harder as she clutched on her blue silk uniform. Draco scooted nearer to her from his bed so he could hold her tensed hand and soothe her, grimacing a little due to his physical state and the pain on his battered flesh.

"H-Hermione," Adrian looked like the guiltiest person on earth. "Please understand. I only did it to protect you. Mother was brainwashing you. You were too young. She's a very selfish woman, Hermione, and she's planning on using you to be with Draco Malfoy for her own selfish reasons. I had to do what I could to protect you."

"And so you took matters into your own hands then," she nodded; a look of hurt was clearly visible on her flushing face. "You didn't even ask me what I felt! You didn't even give me the chance to say my part! You didn't even care enough to tell me the truth even if you saw me crying, thinking I was being rejected. I told you all my hurt and disappointments when in fact it was _you_ who made them happened! I feel more than betrayed here, Adrian! You played with me! You played with my feelings! How can you tell me how much you care for me when you're the very person who managed to execute everything to _hurt_ me? I feel so stupid! _You_ made me look stupid!"

"I only did it because I cared for you!" Adrian reasoned out pleadingly.

"No! You did it because you're selfish!" Draco suddenly burst out, still at the state of contortion just like Adrian while he skidded slightly so he could face him without hitting his fresh bruises to the bed.

"Oho! Look who's talking! If I were right, I'm not the one playing with girls here and corrupting each of their minds so he can get in their pants and throw them like used goods after!" Adrian was gnashing his teeth now while trying to get out of the bed but decided it wasn't the best option as he had almost ousted out on the hard floor.

"At least I'm not a lying two-faced bastard like you! And I won't do that to Hermione! You're just a sick cynical psycho!"

"I'm just trying to protect her before you do something—"

"Drop it, you two! I'm still here, in case you forgot! And Adrian, we're not doing anything wrong. I may be your younger sister but I'm not a child anymore! I am my own person and I can do anything I want!" Hermione stridently screamed before going out of the room, leaving the two occupants quite dumbfounded and staggered.

"See what you've done?" Draco scowled after a long stunned silence.

"Shut it."

And sure enough, a lengthy stillness followed on without delay.

* * *

The next two weeks had been a torture to Draco, not only because of his detentions together with his nemesis, Adrian Pucey, but also because Hermione had never spoken to either one of them since that outburst at the infirmary.

Draco thought it was just plain unfair.

He wasn't the one who lied to her at the first place. Why should he suffer the same consequences as her twisted brother?

It was a good thing that he had convinced his godfather for a favor of not mentioning anything to his father. Snape told him that any of his reasons may just only be too pathetic so he hadn't bothered on contacting Lucius about it, in which Draco was very grateful for.

This was one of the reasons why he hadn't tried anything to worsen his already rotten relationship with Adrian. Their detentions had taken all of their free time and he'd been stuck cleaning the dungeons, arranging some books at the library and even patrolling at night with Filch, and worse, everything he did had to be with Adrian. The git.

The champions had already been chosen and Hermione had been extra busy to even take one single glimpse back at him. She had completely ignored Adrian too so it was a comfort, but still, Draco couldn't help but think how unfair she truly was. Sure, he had really participated on that fight, but he did it for self defense. She couldn't possibly think that he would just let anyone beat himself to a pulp just to show how kind he was, right? He wasn't even sure he could be kind, for pity's sake.

Yet, she acted like she didn't care a bit. He was helpless because he needed to balance his detentions and school works, and she seemed to take every opportunity to run away or hide from him.

Seriously, this girl would drive him out of his sanity, soon enough.

She walked around with her Beauxbatons schoolmates together with their Triwizard champion Fleur Delacour around the campus as if they were on a pageant show and he couldn't help to be one of those boys who would gape stupidly at them.

They were all incredibly attractive and gorgeous but what haunted him the most was the lovely sway of their hips and that feminine confident scent they seemed to elicit whenever they passed by.

Were they even trained to walk that way?

Dammit.

She was just too graceful and too alluring for her own good.

The haughty look on her pretty face and the sway of that silky garment she called her uniform was just too much for him to take.

Why was she torturing him this way?

He hadn't even done anything wrong.

It was her stupid brother who did!

His grades had even started on slipping down just because he was always too busy stalking her whenever she was around, and thinking about her whenever she wasn't. Snape assumed he was having trouble because of his limited time due to his detention. His godfather told him he would keep his mouth shut for now but warned him to start studying harder if he didn't want Lucius storming inside the castle and punishing him in front of his schoolmates.

Draco wondered why the hell Snape was acting like he was too busy to even bust him. For all he knew, it had been his entertainment to do so before.

His detention was one thing, but why wouldn't he even bother on discussing to Lucius about his grades now, too? His godfather had always been a bloody snoop and he loved to always pry around, reporting Draco's every flaw to his father whenever he would have the chance. It was one of his amusements. Why change his mind now?

Maybe it was also because his father was too busy as well. Though he didn't really know what it was he was currently working on that seemed to take each of his time, lately. Maybe it was just another of their businesses or he was doubling his efforts on kissing the Ministry's boots again. It was one of his hobbies recently; especially that he was sacked off from his spot of being one of the Hogwarts' school governors last year because of pressuring the other eleven governors into suspending Dumbledore.

His father had been so mad at him that time, for partly it was his fault for being injured under that stupid bird named Buckbeak. But Draco honestly felt good that his father had stood up for him and tried to give his broken arm a justice.

It made him feel like his father loved him too…

He always thought he did.

Why else would he even always ask Snape about his whereabouts?

He was concerned of him, of course.

He was still his only son, after all.

If Draco wasn't having his 'Hermione problem' right now, he would even be very concern of the fact that his father hadn't asked Snape anything about him lately. So far, he had only come to Hogwarts to inquire about the Triwizard tournament. Lucius was very intrigued of the fourth champion, who was Harry Bloody Potter. How and why he was considered by the goblet as one was beyond him. Draco had too much problems to deal with than that pathetic snitch addicted lover, to begin with.

What he was just wondering was the fact that his father had been too interested with all the happenings at the Triwizard tournament rather than any of his whereabouts now. He had guarded Draco before like he was some kind of a criminal and that he couldn't do anything better for the family name. Right now, however, he didn't even know anything about his failing grades and his endless detentions.

Draco supposed it was a good thing, though.

He had too much to deal with right now than his father's unwanted wrath; for example, dusting this web-covered grimy hardbound book with no magic.

It was a Saturday and he was _finally_ serving his last detention at the library at the present.

Adrian was just across from him, also doing the same and probably biting his tongue just like he was.

Both knew that even a single bickering would lead to another brutal fight, and none of them fancied another grueling weeks of detentions, of course.

Pride be damned, he'd do anything to get this over with.

He couldn't help, however, to glance at that little corner of the library that was taunting him on his peripheral vision.

It was the same corner he and Hermione had so vehemently snogged weeks ago.

It was pretty ironic that he was serving his last detention here, too.

He took it as a good sign as he smirked a little at that naughty memory.

Maybe this day was going to be a bit different from his previous ones.

It had been weeks but he could still feel her lithe body under that soft silky blue uniform she was wearing. He had palmed her gorgeous curves and she seemed to love every bit of it while she moaned and whimpered his name.

She was just too addicting.

_Everything_ in her was too addicting for him.

He'd do _anything_ to get to kiss her that way again.

After this detention, she wouldn't be able to get away from him again.

He wouldn't allow it.

He would snatch her away from her smug schoolmates whenever they would walk pass him if he needed to.

He would _never_be contented on being one of those stupid blokes gaping on her way.

He would be this wolf snatching a particular lamb among the tempting flock.

And she would never be able to resist him, again.

He'd gladly make sure of that.

He had always been smooth when it came to tempting and manipulating people, anyway.

It was one of his remarkable talents and gifts.

All he needed was to be his usual cool popular self and just—

"Hi."

If there was a time Draco Malfoy and Adrian Pucey would be able to do something in a ridiculously synchronized manner, it would be now, as both had let go of the hardbound books they were currently brooding with at the same millisecond of time.

"H-Hermione," Adrian choked out, almost still pleadingly as he stared at his sister with the most remorseful eyes he ever had.

Draco couldn't think anything, however, but the fact that she had once again captured his senses in every possible way.

She was wearing a beautiful sheer white summer dress that stopped just above her knee. Her hair was on a loose updo with some of the loose strands framing her delicate face.

Her white dress reminded him of their first meeting.

She was like an angel.

He had to strike a chord to himself to shut his gaping mouth before he would swallow anything unwanted.

Well, there went his earlier promise on never gaping again.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," she breathed as she went nearer, but stopped just meters away from the two.

"Hermione," Adrian started to walk desperately towards her however to hold her hands tightly. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, Mione. I just—"

"Let me finish first, Adrian," she snapped at him, and Draco couldn't help but smirk smugly at this. He's such a hopeless git.

"I'd like to say sorry for not talking to either one of you for the past weeks, but I trust that you do understand my reason here," she continued when Adrian pursed his lips and looked down.

No. Draco honestly and sincerely didn't understand.

But he had to keep his mouth shut if he didn't want to end up like that jerk she called a brother.

"I have to think of a lot of things. I have to reflect on some things to make a sound decision. I've never experienced something like this all my life, like seeing you two kill each other just because of _me_. I was so scared. You just don't know how nervous and worried I was that day. You two wouldn't even listen to me when I pleaded you to stop. And I guess you deserve every punishment given to you for that," she spoke assertively while raising her chin up a little, though it was still very obvious how her voice trembled a bit. "But you must also know that I care a great deal for the both of you. Adrian, you're my brother and I care greatly for you. And Draco… you're very special to me. I suppose you know that," she smiled softly at Draco and he didn't know whether to smile back or gape again.

"S-So you forgive me?" Adrian asked anxiously while still holding her hand.

"I can, but that's only if you'll accept me being with Draco. Because in case you don't know, I've been in love with him even before mother asked me to."

By then, Draco gaped and smiled at the same time. It was quite a comical unbelievable expression coming from a Malfoy.

But who cared, really?

The past two weeks wasn't such a waste after all. He was right. Maybe this day was going to be a bit different from his previous ones.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for a late update! I'm in the point of my writing where I am bombarded with a lot of ideas for the 'later chapters' and I'm failing to have anything with the chapters I'm currently in now. I guess I'm having a mild specific case of writer's block, probably it has something to do with the fact that everything that gets inside my mind now are meant for the later chapters and I can't just jump on with it because it'll ruin the whole story. It's very frustrating! Argh!**

**Well, enough of my ranting. Haha. Sorry for that. I guess I should at least explain my side, so there. Haha.**

**Thanks for being patient, however, and I'll rack this brain of mine if I have to in order to have a faster update. I promise to finish this story so no worries there. :D**

**Anyway, I posted Hermione's pretty dress at my profile if you want to check it out. I'm so in love with this dress. I'm very obsessed with dresses and no matter how much people say that jeans and shirts are more comfortable, I still prefer a dress as it gives you enough confidence and femininity, and they're comfortable in their own way too. This particular picture of Emma Watson's dress actually inspired me to write and update faster. Yes, I am not lying so I guess I should thank this dress and dedicate this chapter to it. Haha!**

**Anyway, thanks for listening to my endless ranting and I hope you enjoyed this **_**very **_**late chapter (my fault). Have a blessed day and stay tune! :D**

**Love,**

**Sue**


	12. His Promise

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twelve**

"**His Promise"**

"Do you have to hold her like that?" Adrian asked, looking galled and dismayed on Draco's possessive arm around Hermione's waist.

It was a laid-back day at Hogwarts as the three went inside the Great Hall a couple of hours before lunch time.

Earlier, Draco and Adrian were made to have a truce by Hermione. They were made to even shake their hands together and Draco kept the act pretty good by even patting Adrian's back in a friendly gesture. Hermione happily beamed at him while Adrian hissed secretly for the pain from Draco's _friendly_ patting that got a little bit too hard.

"Why? Are you jealous?" Draco smirked back, sounding like the most derisive person on earth.

Adrian just harrumphed and kept his knuckles inside his pocket as he walked with them, evidently seething but refusing to make Hermione notice.

Draco just smirked at him and even tightened his hold on his girlfriend while stirring her gently to the Slytherin seats.

Hermione was too busy looking around nervously to even notice the tension between her two companions. The place wasn't packed with people because it wasn't lunch time yet and only those who were having their vacant hours, mostly those in their year and younger, were present. This didn't stop her apprehension however, since almost all the students residing in the place had looked at her when she entered being in Draco's possessive arms. It was even as if she had just grown another head. She was even sure that those Slytherin girls who were whispering to each other were having a serious topic about _her_.

She never had a boyfriend before so she really wasn't sure how this concept worked.

Just how long should people around you talk about your new relationship and adjust to it? If they did, then how long would they get used to it? Wouldn't it be awkward to them if they'll see that you were not together anymore? Would they even care a bit if you break up? Would they talk about the supposed length of your relationship, or would they just turn around and not care? How long were you supposed to be seen with your boyfriend? Would they think that you're not together anymore if you're not with him most of the time?

"Mione? You alright?"

Hermione looked up from her temporary pensive state to see Draco looking at her with concerned eyes. His brows were furrowed a little but they only added to the beautiful magnetic blue and grey specks of his irises.

She was over-rationalizing things again.

Why should she even care about anything that people would say or think, anyway?

When you're in love, it's your business and not anyone else's.

It's something that you have that they don't. They should just deal with that.

She smiled while allowing herself to get lost in his eyes.

The magical hues on those orbs were just too enticing to even look anywhere else.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking on how lovely this day really is," she smiled at him. This made him smirk and kiss her temple while his hand was placed at the small of her back as they seated together.

"This is making me sick," Adrian murmured quietly as he seated on Hermione's left side.

"Don't you have any classes today?" Draco sounded a little snarky while he poked his head out to look at Adrian from his seat. "As far as I know, you guys are pretty busy with all these NEWT level classes you're starting."

"I remember you still have Arithmancy now, Adrian," Hermione nodded while reminding him. Draco was smirking evilly beside her when she turned away to face her brother. The older bloke was definitely incensed now. Draco would definitely keep a mental snapshot for this in his memory.

Adrian internally groaned as he stood up and fixed his bag. Before finally going away, however, he walked over towards Draco and gave him a warning stare. The blonde just smirked tauntingly as his reply.

Oh how he loved this day.

"Tell me if he harasses you or something," Adrian told Hermione before walking away infuriatingly, knowing too well not to let his younger sister answer anything because he'd only end up being at fault again.

"He thinks I can't do anything good," Draco shook his head innocently. He even looked convincingly problematic, as if he really cared of what her brother thought of him.

As if.

"Give him time, Draco," Hermione sighed, obviously buying his little act as she caressed his jaw gently. Her strokes almost made him purr. He'd have to remember to constantly play this little innocent victim. It seemed to work pretty well.

"Morning, mate."

Hermione looked up to see the tall olive-skinned guy whom she remembered to be together with Draco and the Durmstrang students before. He was currently patting Draco's back but was also looking at Hermione in quite an appraising but appreciative manner.

"And may I know your name, bella ragazza?" He smirked at her while smoothly kissing the back of her hand. He had such a husky cool yielding voice, she was almost frozen to say or do anything.

"This is Hermione, _my_ girlfriend," Draco suddenly cut in while placing a possessive hand on her tiny waist.

For a moment, Draco and his friend seemed to have looked at each other. Their expressions unreadable but it seemed as if they were having a silent agreement or conformity whatsoever.

"That's a really pretty name, cara. Obviously as pretty as you are," Draco's friend finally spoke. Hermione noted that his voice wasn't as seductive as before, it was more on the friendly tone now. She supposed whatever Draco tried to tell him through his stare had worked. "I'm Blaise Zabini, by the way. I guess I'm considered as this bloke's only friend since I'm the only one who can tolerate his psychotic state. I reckon you have the same ability as mine, you know, having been able to be near this weird guy," he chuckled lightly at her.

"Just shut up, Blaise. All I hear is your constant babbling and it's irritating," Draco rolled his eyes as his friend casually walked nearer Hermione and sat on Adrian's former seat, scooting a little bit too nearer and making his arm brush hers a little.

"I won't ask you why you're with this guy here, but when you get tired of him, I'm always here," he winked at Hermione in a raspy whisper, completely ignoring Draco.

Even with the throwing of provocative words, however, there was no tension between the two boys. It almost felt like the air had been lighter and much friendlier now than with Adrian a while ago. Hermione could tell that they were really good friends, since Draco just shook his head from the last trifling comment. Blaise had done it seductively again that it almost sounded serious even. But when she turned to look back at him, he was just smiling amusedly at them. They acted so natural with each other that they could already differentiate any playful joke with each other no matter how serious they would sound.

Hermione found it amusing.

She suddenly wanted to know a lot more of Draco and the people around him.

After a few cheery talks with Blaise Zabini and after he had bombarded them with his witty banters to Draco and playful flirting to Hermione, Draco had asked Hermione to head out for a while before going back for lunch.

The scenery was glorious.

The dawdling fall of the leaves sent little mysterious ripples on the tranquil lake. The balding trees' mirror images were slowly blurring every time a single leaf fell into the lake's surface, ending their borrowed time and embracing the grandeurs of autumn.

It was a magical phenomenon that Draco hadn't really paid so much attention with before.

But with Hermione's hand snugly holding his, it felt as if he could appreciate the simple things around him better.

The breeze had gotten colder, indicating the coming months of wintry weather. In some cases, snow had been seen as early as the first of November at Hogwarts, though most of the time it wouldn't start snowing until sometime in late December or early January.

Draco didn't really care about these little things before.

He hadn't even stopped to stare at the beautiful panorama this way.

He wondered what it could have been if Hermione had entered Hogwarts rather than Beauxbatons. He could have had the best years at Hogwarts.

"What are you thinking?" Hermione suddenly whispered as she looked up at him. Her warm honey-colored eyes were staring back at his icy ones. Their disparity was not repellent but was compelling on their own. They were very different orbs but were made specially to complement each other. Almost like these positive and negative theories. It made sense in the most beautiful way.

"I'm thinking about my dream girl," he whispered while tugging on her hand gently, ushering her to his chest.

"Yeah? What is she like?" Hermione smiled while interlacing both her arms around his torso and looking up at him with those warm, round and the most innocent eyes he'd ever seen.

"She's an angel. She has this cute little button nose and faint freckles that amuse me to no end. I love holding her dainty hands. She healed me when I was a little boy, when I was so young and wanted to cry alone with those wounds and I'll never forget that memory. She's a storyteller. She's a dreamer. She loves to dream, though she really doesn't know that she's a dream, herself," he replied while kissing her forehead tenderly. "What about you? Do you have someone you dream about?"

"He was the little boy I met and lived with me in a huge block of daydream when we were younger, but it was so real to us. I could be on the other side, he could be on one, but it will always be us at the end anyway. I guess we're childhood sweethearts. I guess he's a dreamer too. He rarely shows it but yes, he's the same old dreamer I've known," she nodded, scrunching her face a little as if really musing something and considering the matter. "Yep, and right now, he's all mine," she nodded proudly as if confirming a certain theory, making Draco chuckle fondly while kissing her once again.

They kissed for a while, humming a little at the friction of their molded lips.

Draco could swear he was born to be in this moment.

It had waited for him before he was even born.

"Damn your brother for screwing up everything," he hissed, still reeling from the sensations and hating the fact on how much her brother had snatched all these from him years ago.

"Draco, I somehow understand Adrian, you know," Hermione replied softly.

"You understand him snatching our time together?" Draco asked, looking a bit hurt and unjustified. He still remembered how her brother had tricked them and how Hermione hadn't talk to the _both of them_ for two long weeks, while he knew that he hadn't done anything that severe as her brother to have the same punishment as he did.

"What he did was wrong, Draco. He had hurt us both and I know that. But I've also thought about it and one way or another, I understand where he's coming from. He just wanted me to hold on to my will and not to be under my mother's persuasions. He didn't exactly know what I was feeling that time. I was too young and he thought it wasn't fair for me. My life revolved around my mother's orders, Draco. My schedules, all these endless tiring lessons, my limited playtime and my disciplined and monitored actions were all ordered by her. I could never do anything wrong or else I'd get punished. She wanted me to be this perfect Renaissance woman. I thought that she had done everything of that _for me_. But when I've thought about it and come back to those days, I realize on how truly a fool I am to even dream about it. I may be important to her as her daughter but I'll still and always be someone who can uphold the family honor not of my own doing but on the doing of the future husband she will choose for me," Hermione sighed sadly as she looked down. "I can never pursue my career once I get married. I've learned that through the years I had with Aunt Genevieve."

"It's the way things are in our world, Hermione; at least in the upper pureblood society. It's been that way through generations," Draco told her. "And if that's something you're worried about then I'll allow you to choose no matter what. With me, you can do anything you want."

"I know, Draco. But I really don't think it's even fair. We're made to do almost all things and be elegant and smart. We have to train and learn everything, but in the end, we won't even make use of it, because all that we really need to do is to be beautiful and that's it. Why try to be a Renaissance woman when you're not in one? Why try to learn everything when you're not even going to use it? It's as good as wasting your time for nothing," she shook her head while taking a deep heavy breath in the cool breeze.

"My father controls me in everything I do too. I know what you're feeling, Hermione. But we were born and made this way. Some people envy us and want to be in our place. That's what I think and I'm ready to take all these crap if I have to keep that. Everything has its downside. It just so happens that ours is a little bit harder, because we're superior and we're at the top of the caste," Draco reasoned out while stroking the worrying creases on her brows in an attempt to straighten them.

"Well, at some point, have you gotten tired of it too? Have you ever wondered what it would be like if it were different? If everything was simpler and if we were at the other side?" She asked softly, deeply intrigued to hear what he had to say.

"By at the other side, you mean those with tainted blood? Our opposites? _Mudbloods_? Of course not. We have the purest blood of all. The least we can do is to be proud of it," Draco shrugged nonchalantly.

"I can never be proud of something that has the most erroneous beliefs," she told him, quite disheartened of his simple answer and the fact that he had said the hurtful term for muggleborns as if it was a natural thing for him to do. Even when born as a pureblood, she didn't think it was justifiable to degrade those people who were different from them. She had been quite keen of the muggleborn race ever since she was young. She had muggle playmates. She had read about muggles and muggleborns and the things that they could do on their own way. She may never tell this to anybody, but she just found their world quite… comforting, like she could prefer to live in that simple but truly inventive life than her aristocratic, cold and boring one.

"This is our world, Hermione. It will never change. This is our beliefs because this is what's real."

"Funny. If we have the most authentic belief, then why do we live in these entire backstabbing deceitful places? Don't tell me you haven't noticed all those fake smiles whenever you attend a social gathering, Draco. I've read about muggles and simple people and they have the most fascinating and friendliest parties," she told him, her eyes almost lighting up by sharing her latter discovery.

"They can't judge any fault from each other because they're all imperfect people, with flaws all over their systems," Draco reasoned, looking a bit confused on her sudden enthusiasm about this boring race.

"Well, I'd choose to be a muggleborn if that's what it takes. I'd rather be in a real crowd than in a fake one," Hermione finally said while crossing her arms and looking as if she was proud of what she just said.

Draco looked outraged, however. "Don't say that, Hermione. Mudbloods are too disgusting to even talk about. You're everything that's opposite to them. If you were a mudblood, which is absolutely impossible anyway, I don't think we had even met when we were younger, or even talk right now," he shook his head while laughing slightly, too taken aback by her foolish confession.

"So you're saying that you'll never be with me if I were one?" Hermione looked a bit irate all of a sudden.

"What? I didn't say that, Hermione," he frowned as he stared at her confusedly. He honestly thought that she was just trying to defend her little statement a while ago. He didn't really know that she was actually taking it a bit seriously. And what the hell happened to their sweet talks, anyway? Why were they even discussing this very irrelevant matter?

"It just feels like you're saying that you can never love me if I'm not a pureblood," she uttered, now narrowing her eyes at him.

"You got my point entirely wrong, Hermione. You embody and exemplify each and every trait of our blood superiority. I just thought it was plain wrong of you to wish something so impossible. I mean, you're beautiful; you're smart, you're everything. You're _perfect_. If you're not a pureblood then you can never be like this. You'll be someone else, someone less superior. What I was just trying to say is that if you'll not be a pureblood then _you'll not be Hermione_."

"My blood doesn't define who I am, Draco," she said, a little bit louder and firmer now.

"I know that," Draco sighed. "I'm just trying to tell you that it's too impossible for you to even compare yourself to them. I mean, look at_ you_. And look at _them_," he said while thrusting his hands in the air to let her see his point. "And why are we even talking about this? This is not worth fighting or talking about, Mione."

"I'm just trying to see if you'll love me no matter what," she pouted while looking down and playing with her fingers.

"Come here," he sighed and smiled softly while opening his arms for her. For a few seconds, Hermione just stared at him, still a bit angry and disappointed of his clearly warped philosophy. But later on she sighed and embraced him anyway, reveling on the power and comfort of his broad chest and sturdy arms. "I love you, Hermione. Everything can be upside down, but the world knows how much I love you. I'll always love you no matter what. Remember that, okay?"

"You promise?"

"I promise. I'll never let anyone hurt you, princess. We're a team now, okay? Me and you; I'll always be with you whatever happens. _Nothing_ will change that. I promise."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all your lovely reviews! Have a blessed Sunday. :D**

**Now make my day brighter and review to tell me what you think of this chapter.**

**Love, **

**Sue**


	13. Young Love's Trick

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"**Young Love's Trick"**

Hermione's eyes were filled with wonder and curiosity as she marveled around the grand Slytherin house common room.

She found it very interesting that the Slytherin common room was partly located underneath the Hogwarts Lake as this dungeon-like room extended partway under it. It was very different to their bright and often perceived as majestic and beautiful common room back at the Beauxbatons Academy.

The Slytherin's common room was extensive, but also low-ceilinged that she suddenly felt quite claustrophobic being inside it. Everything seemed to be quite dim and she wondered how the students could freely stay here and not notice the lack of light in their surroundings. She supposed they already got used to it.

What she liked however, were the tons of low backed black and green leather sofas with buttons all over the room. She could see some students lazing back on those lush sofas and chatting with their mates contentedly. That part of the place felt homey; despite of the fact that the whole place seemed to give an eerie, cold ambiance.

"So, what do you think?" Draco smiled proudly while ushering her to sit on one of the leather sofas inside.

Hermione noticed on how the two students who were just currently lounging there had purposely stood up to go somewhere when they saw them. It seemed to be a common understanding to walk out and give Draco Malfoy and his girl their needed seats.

Draco Malfoy and his girl.

Malfoy's girl.

That was her nickname to some of the Slytherins lately.

It was her first time inside the Slytherin common room and the people around still gave her little glances, but not so much now as they were quite used to seeing her with Draco almost everywhere for the past weeks that they'd started their infamous relationship.

They had been quite inseparable but she couldn't really complain.

She just couldn't get enough of him.

She had missed him even for only being away from him through classes. She couldn't get enough of him whenever they were together, and would often stay up late just lying on her bed with a stupid silly grin on her face while still thinking about him until she would fall asleep and dream of him. Sometimes, she would stay up for hours before going to sleep just by replaying the things that they did and their simple conversations, his smile, his caring gestures on her and everything of him over and over again before finally getting lost in her slumber.

She had always thought it was quite cliché to say that he was her first thought in the morning and last before she would fall asleep at night, but it was the truth and she supposed she had become quite cliché too because of that.

She reckoned they were still on their honeymoon stage in their relationship and he was her first boyfriend so maybe this irrational obsession she was having was still quite normal, hopefully.

She had always told herself to never be like those girls she had witnessed, being crazy in love and almost dying when they would get their hearts broken.

But honestly, she felt like she had chewed and swallowed her words to her friends before when she was berating them for being too serious with their relationships only to see it gone while murdering their hearts as well.

But she was just damn sure that hers was different.

Because it was with Draco, and because she knew that he loved her enough to never hurt her.

What she was just afraid was the thing that would become of her if ever she would go back to Beauxbatons.

What would she do without him now?

Could she even live without him?

Could she even stay sane enough?

She could miss him for only hours of not seeing him; she didn't think she could do it for a whole school year.

They had been too joined at the hip for the past weeks. They had even learned by heart each of their schedules and had even formed a common routine.

Draco would always fetch her in the morning so they could go for breakfast together. Adrian had no choice but to give him that task even if Hermione never really asked him to.

Draco had been too persistent about it, he wasn't loud, but his actions and constant possessive gestures made the message perfectly clear.

There were even times when he would arrive earlier than the usual and would even join her and her schoolmates for their jog.

He had easily won her schoolmates' favor.

They liked him too much and would even nudge her and giggle a little whenever he would do something really sweet to her.

He was charismatic and debonair in every possible way if he wanted to.

He was such a dream boy.

She had learned that he had these two differing attitudes when it came to people. He was excessively affectionate to her and was sweet and courteous to her friends. He was engaging to the people he considered as friends just like Blaise Zabini or if he wanted to.

But he could be the worst nightmare to the people he considered lower to his status.

She had witnessed him talking trash to people and taking each possible chance he could to insult some students, especially those from the other houses.

He said that Slytherin was the only house that really had 'the right rank' in this school.

She was quite sorry for the people he'd been bullying, but she just couldn't scold him too much about it since he was just too incredibly loving to her in the most beautiful way that she would often forget why she was even angry at him at the first place.

Sometimes, she had even wondered what it would be like and how she would have had perceived Draco if she was one of those people he was tormenting.

It made her feel very selfish and sounded like this evil mistress of a tyrant, but she honestly didn't want to be in their places.

She felt extremely proud of having the sweetest part of Draco reserved only for _her_.

He was incredibly arrogant and pompous, but it had always been only when they were around the general people. Whenever they were alone, it was completely different as he would revert back to this sweet warm simple boy only wanting to be touched by her.

He was tremendously overprotective too. One time at Hogsmeade, he had even almost brewed a fight with a stranger who had just accidentally bumped her shoulder.

She knew he was pampering and spoiling her too much that she would clearly seek this kind of attention if this would end.

But she knew this would never end. He had promised her so.

He was this typical suave, charming and manipulative guy that was both a beautiful dream and nightmare to girls. If she hadn't known him since she was very young, she could have had taken a little caution in instantly being with him, but he was _her Draco_.

He'd always been _her Draco_.

She loved him, no matter what. For all that was worth, she would love even his darkest side if she had to. She had taken comfort to that fact.

She could control him, somehow, too. Whenever she thought he was being too much to some of the people he had offended, she would tell him and scold him about it.

Sometimes, he would listen to her and calm a bit. Sometimes, he would just shrug it off and would just kiss her to distract her attention.

He loved kissing her, whenever and wherever.

He especially liked doing it in public.

He was quite a possessive boyfriend and he would often take each and every opportunity he could get to show everyone that she was his.

He even told her smugly that he loved it every time they would refer to her as 'Malfoy's girl'.

Hermione hated the name. It felt like stripping her off from her real identity and known proficiencies. Draco thought it was quite amusing and would make her stop ranting by kissing her again.

She had learned that he was a very physical person. He liked being touched and he liked to touch her as often as possible.

He was very touchy-feely and demonstrative of anything. Those skillful and mischievous hands of his were her weakness and possibly, her greatest downfall if the inopportune time would come that she wouldn't be able to resist him anymore.

They had become even more and more passionate every day. He was always trying to seduce her or trying to have a feel of her whenever he would get the chance to do so.

He would casually kiss her temple whenever they would walk around the hall. His hand was never absent on the small of her back. Sometimes his arm would entwine around her tiny waist. If not, then it was because he was holding her hand tightly or gently squeezing her shoulder.

He would even whisk some invisible leaf on her hair whenever they were outside, or just gently stroke some strayed curls away from her face just to touch her cheek and lightly caress her lips in the process.

Their snogging sessions had become more heated and frenzied every time, and had even taken place to even more daring places such as some of the greenhouses and even the Astronomy tower, though the library was still their constant forbidden spot.

They had also started on being a little unrestrained now and it was getting more and more difficult to cover some of the love bites he had made on her neck and clavicle, and sometimes, even at the upper part of the swell of her breasts.

This was the reason why it took some time for Hermione to allow him to take her inside the Slytherin common room. His room was the closest place for a hot snogging session inside this dungeon and she didn't really trust herself whether she could resist his tempting request if he would suddenly ask her to have a tour on his room too.

Once, Draco had even tried to take her knickers off while snaking his hand inside her skirt and teasing her squirming body underneath him inside that empty cupboard they found just at the corner of a vacant corridor. They had a little bit too much of fun and experimenting that she even ended up having all her buttons blatantly opened for him. She was just too turned on and was too lost in the moment that she had almost allowed him to do what he wanted.

It was a good thing that they suddenly heard a certain student, a prefect perhaps, coming towards the vacant corridor they were in and they needed to be as quiet as possible if they didn't want to be caught. After a few heart stopping moments, the person finally went away, probably thinking it was just one of the ghosts snooping around Hogwarts.

Draco tried to kiss and touch her again when he heard the prefect finally going away, obviously trying to get on with what he just successfully started, but Hermione stopped him and told him that it had been a close call and that they better go.

That night, she couldn't help but rebuke herself over and over again for almost giving in.

He seemed like a drug to her, like this dangerous weed to a very curious traveler.

But she was just too young for any of this. Maybe this was the downside for what they called young love? She refused, however, to acknowledge that this was just any teenage hormonal infatuation because it really wasn't. She loved him to bits, too much actually, that it might seem a little dangerous at times.

But she was a smart girl.

She knew she was a smart girl.

She didn't need to experience tripping and scratching her knee before knowing fully the consequences and the pain that would go with it.

She loved Draco, but she knew that loving someone was not a good excuse for stupidity.

Aunt Genevieve had instilled to her all those lessons through the years and she had seen some of her girl schoolmates suffer from that mistake.

It wasn't idealistic when you'd give everything for romance.

If he loved her, he would wait.

She told him about it the next day after that cupboard incident. Their talk had been quite serious. He looked really uncomfortable about all of it too, but Hermione appreciated the fact that he really tried his best to listen to her and not complain. He even told her that he understood where she was coming from and even promised her that he would wait for her. Though she had clearly seen the disappointment in his eyes, she had also seen determination and fortitude coming from them.

He seemed to really want to prove to her that his feelings were genuine.

For that, she was very proud of him.

He was her little rebel, but it was a comfort to know that she could tame him somehow. It just meant just how much he respected and loved her back.

That was the very reason why she had finally allowed him to take her to their common room. She'd been quite curious of what it looked like and she was pleased that she would be finally seeing it without any fear in her mind.

"It's interesting," she nodded as she looked around while assessing the walls and its dark decorative designs, some skulls and green orbs on some of the wooden tables, and dark wood cupboards.

"That's all?" Draco raised his eyebrow.

"It's really a fascinating place, Draco. But it's just too… I don't know, dark, maybe?" She smiled gently at him. She knew that Draco had been too proud of his house and she needed to thread softly in giving comments about it. Though, honestly, she really didn't like it at all. It was interesting, but she was just too sure she couldn't possibly feel safe in here.

"Alright, alright. I know you have this entire grand luxurious royal palace common room at your school, but you don't have to insult my house, you know. You made it sound like it's a weird kind of an underground dungeon under a castle or something," he uttered dramatically while pulling her next to him for a cuddle and a stolen kiss.

"_It is_ an underground dungeon, Draco. And yes, it's literally under a castle, under a lake even," she chuckled. "And I didn't insult it; I said it was fascinating and interesting… and dark. It's a good compliment. The dark part was an observation, an objective one. And I thought you like it when you're referred with the dark or something? It makes you sound like this really dangerous knight."

"How hot is that knight?" He suddenly whispered huskily while gently nibbling on her earlobe which sent heavy tingles on her back and nape.

"He's very hot," she whispered back, almost whimpering as she tilted her head a little so he could rest his lips on the crook of her neck.

They'd always been like this.

It was even as if they just couldn't get enough of each other.

"Honestly, people. You really have to get a room, you know."

Both looked up and saw Blaise Zabini grinning like a Cheshire cat. Beside him was Daphne Greengrass, who was his rumored girlfriend. Blaise told them once, however, that they were just friends with benefits and that status hadn't changed for quite a long time now.

"What is it this time, Blaise?" Draco sounded annoyed, having been interrupted from his previous enjoyable hobby. Hermione, however, was trying her very best to compose herself while twitchily smoothing her skirt down to its proper length.

"Snape's calling for you," Blaise shrugged.

"Why?" Draco frowned.

"Dunno. Ask him. Maybe the old bloke's bored or something," Blaise sneered while casually pulling Daphne closer to him for a swift unfussy kiss.

"Damn. Hermione, I'm sorry for this. I'll escort you to your carriage then get back to you after this. I know you don't like staying here alone," Draco told her, looking truly sorry. He really couldn't ignore Snape's orders. Snape's orders were always connected to his father's orders, enough said.

"I can accompany her here if she wants to," Daphne suddenly offered. "Blaise wants to go out and have a little broom ride and I hate the wind messing my hair," she continued as she pointed at the broom's handle around Blaise' left hand.

"Aw, baby. I thought you're coming with me. Your hair will always be pretty even when tangled; you're sexier like that," Blaise smirked sexily at her but she just rolled her eyes and sat smugly beside Hermione.

"You know, I was set to enter Beauxbatons before too. But father didn't want me to be too far away from home. I really wish he did allow me to, you know. I love the sophistication that your school elicits," Daphne started talking to Hermione as if they'd already been close friends, or rather trying to dismiss Blaise once and for all.

"Fine. Whatever suits you," Blaise just heedlessly waved his hand while gripping on his broom to go. "Draco, clock's ticking. Snape's an impatient man. See you around, bella principessa," he winked at Hermione before gracefully turning around to go.

"He's such an arse. He wants to drag me wherever and whenever he wants to. He knows I hate the wind. It's not good for my hair," Daphne muttered at Hermione when Blaise was finally gone, trying to stress her point by stroking her straight blonde hair gently.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" Draco sounded quite unsure while looking at Hermione and her 'new friend' Daphne with clearly a very opposite mind-set, and by that, he meant a very shallow one.

"You can't just parade her around just for your sake, Draco. Let her live her life, won't you?" Daphne rolled her eyes before crossing her legs and scooting nearer to Hermione. "Oh gosh, why can't our uniforms be like yours? Yours gives you the chance to always show your curves. I wish ours are tailored just as that," she spoke animatedly at Hermione, obviously trying to piss and dismiss Draco as well.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, love," Draco uttered while gently kissing Hermione at the forehead, knowing too well to ignore Daphne and her impossible level of complacency. The girl was second to Pansy's skull breaking haughtiness. As a Slytherin, he was already too immune of that.

Hermione nodded and smiled lovingly at him before he dashed out of the common room, looking exasperated of the situation.

"Wow. You guys are really mushy," Daphne frowned with genuine curiosity as she looked at Hermione by the time Draco had gone. "So, you're _really _in love with him?" She whispered pryingly at her.

"I'm not really sure what that question means, but yes, I am," Hermione nodded, looking a bit curious now on what Daphne was trying to say.

"Well, one advice, _do not_ fall for Draco Malfoy. That's the game here. It seems like you're already too late though. You look too innocent to be one of his victims. Stop whatever feelings you're brewing for him," the blonde girl said this a-matter-of-factly that it was as if she was telling a very obvious point.

"How can you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, I had quite an enjoyable little affair with him before," she smirked, and for a brief second had gently held Hermione's chin with her dainty fingers to turn her face into the direction of the two girls who were currently emerging from the common room's portrait hole. "And so did them."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! And thank you for all your kind words :D The Slytherin common room here is very canon, so hopefully I've been quite specific. I've always thought it was quite a magical, but very spooky place. I prefer the Gryffindor's however, but we'll get to that point (Random clue? Haha).**

**So what do you think of this chapter? Please review. God bless. **

**Love, **

**Sue**


	14. How to Be a Slytherin Girl

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**"How to Be a Slytherin Girl"**

Hermione looked around and saw Tracey Davies and Pansy Parkinson walking snootily towards them. She had known that Tracey had been Draco's girlfriend, but she really didn't know about Daphne and Pansy. And weren't they supposed to be Tracey's closest friends? Could friends stay as close after dating the same guy and hurting at the process of it? Wouldn't that be a little awkward?

Or… was it just because it was _Draco Malfoy_?

Draco had never discussed to her anything about his past relationships. When she had tried to ask him out of curiosity, he just shrugged and told her that none of it was important now and that she was the only one that really mattered to him; a very familiar line from heartbreakers, as Adrian would put it. When she would ask further, he would always seal the conversation with a lingering kiss. And just like that, her questions would always fade away.

He'd always been very manipulative. He could stir a conversation or get anything he wanted just by kissing her. Hermione didn't know if this was good or bad, or even healthy at all for that matter.

Adrian had even warned her not to indulge on her boyfriend too much. He said that Draco was a bad influence on her. They would even argue just because of that topic, Adrian trying to point out all the negative particulars while Hermione trying to defend each by countering them with positive raison d'être.

And now, Daphne had so blatantly laid open to her what Adrian was trying to tell her, but she was surprised that it still didn't make any difference, somehow.

This was getting out of hand.

Yes, maybe she was disappointed of what Draco had done, but just as he said; it was all from his past, right?

Maybe she was trying to be hearing-impaired because somehow, she was scared of what she might learn more? Or maybe she was just as hard-headed and as head-over-heels as any other young girl in love.

Whatever it was, she knew she was in such a glitch, but she just couldn't stop anything that she was feeling. It was like feeling her mother's expensive rosa centifolia scent and jasmine oil in her hands, so greasy and slippery and forbidden, but just so fragrant and sweet and soft and… addicting.

She bit her lower lip and breathed hard as she tried to snap out of her unsatisfactory thought while looking back at Daphne, who was then smiling sweetly and giving delicate air-kisses on her friends. Hermione also noticed that Pansy Parkinson was watching her critically, like appraising some newly purchased clothing, looking for flaws or frays here and there. Tracey Davies was a different story, however, as she was even the first one who had started on greeting her.

"Oh, hello Hermione," Tracey squeaked. It was too friendly and high-pitched for her own good, Hermione reckoned. "Do you still remember me? The last time we were together, I was bawling stupidly in front of you. Oh gosh, it was even too embarrassing to remember."

Hermione frankly didn't know what to say, so she just concentrated on stopping her jaw from involuntarily dropping out. Tracey really looked very well now, like she wanted to be friends with her and had completely forgotten her rage when Draco had broken up with her. If she had known that she was the reason why Draco did it at the first place, then it would have been a different story. Hermione was just thankful that Tracey seemed to have moved on already, and that for the past weeks, she had been spotted dating a certain bloke from Durmstrang.

In fact, Tracey had been incredibly pleased these past few weeks with her new beau that Hermione couldn't help but be even more confused. She had looked almost as if she was dying that time when Draco broke up with her. But now she was earnestly chatting with her as if they were long time friends. She realized that Slytherins could be a tad baffling at times, she should have had already figured that out with her own brother and her own boyfriend who had once almost killed each other.

"So, why are you here? Where's Draco?" Pansy asked her. She sounded a little friendly, but it was quite strained; almost as if she was waiting for a negative answer to surface.

"He went to talk to Professor Snape and he told me to take care of Hermione for a while," Daphne smirked pompously at Pansy before Hermione could open her mouth. She even sounded too smug that it was as if she was trying to make the two girls jealous. "Hermione and I were currently discussing fashion. We were just about to go and check out some of my outfits at the dormitory room before you two walked in actually, weren't we Hermione?"

Again, Hermione was too taken aback by the coated statement and so she just decided on shutting her mouth. She even nodded and smiled a little, as an afterthought.

This gesture seemed to make Daphne beam contentedly while she crossed her arms proudly in a very self-aggrandizing way to the two girls.

Hermione noticed that the three seemed to be having their own unspoken competitions. She was suddenly very thankful that she wasn't staying or even sorted in this house for that matter.

"What fashion line were you talking about?" Tracey looked pretty alarmed now, like she had this mental note wherein she needed to mark some five points for Daphne, and she needed to take a notch in whatever game they were playing.

What game were they playing anyway?

Who got the best connections or what not?

"Oh, not that big, we were just talking about their school's uniform. I mean, the contour and style is really classy. It also complements the curves and all. Hermione agrees with me," Daphne told them disinterestedly, examining her well manicured nails before waving her hand and shrugging a little as she shifted and faced the way to the Slytherin girls' dormitory, looking even snottier, if that was possible.

"Well, I really think so too, you know. But Poliakoff still thinks I look good in whatever clothing I wear," Tracey replied as she walked behind Daphne. It was very obvious that she was trying to stir the topic into her as she talked about her new boyfriend louder than she could have had. Daphne just shrugged again however, looking more than bored and completely unaffected while still patently pulling Hermione away from her two friends like a greedy toddler having a new shiny Barbie doll and refusing to share it with her playmates.

Hermione, honestly, just wanted to get away from there.

"When will you stop talking about your boyfriend, anyway? It's been weeks, Tracey. We're so over it," Pansy rolled her eyes while also starting to follow Daphne. She looked like she was realizing something as she tried to get nearer to Hermione as possible too.

So she had joined the whole 'I'm better than you' game too.

Great.

It was only when they had finally gotten inside the girls' room when Hermione stopped being terrified. She looked around interestingly while trying to drown the girls' snotty voices in her ears.

The room was quite quaint and big enough for its occupants. The space was rounded satisfactorily to make room for the four-poster beds on all sides. The walls were decorated with Slytherin crests and old-fashioned greenish wall lamps.

It was quite warm, probably charmed to be, despite of its ethereal surroundings and the huge glass windows which showed the glow of the underground lake. Hermione wondered whether or not some mysterious lake creatures creep into those windows from time to time. It was a good thing that those thick but silken green curtains were present.

What she did love, however, was the antiquity of some of the designs as well as the feminine touches in the room, like the large full length mirror and some baroque style mirrors, shelves and candles on the wall. There were also wooden vanity tables on every side of each bed. The trunks of the students were also delicately placed at each foot of the bed, and she could tell just how the girls in the room were very particular of spotlessness and perfection.

"So? What do you think?" Daphne smiled proudly as Hermione circled the room. The girls looked very proud and were quite swollen with pride for their dormitory, which reminded her of what Draco had looked like a while ago when he asked her opinion about the Slytherin's common room. Typical.

"It's really nice and I like your vanity tables," she told them sincerely. Minus the fact that it was eerily located under the lake, she really liked the room and the sophistication of the designs. It may not match up with her classically refined room back at the Beauxbatons palace, but it certainly held a certain unique beauty.

"My vanity table was specially imported from Luxembourg . An awarded wizard furniture craftsman there had made it especially for my great grandmother. It's been with the family for ages. Mother said it's important to pass it on me as it exemplifies our beauty. She thinks it's best to be in my possession even in school and she even had to talk to Dumbledore about it. Luckily the old man had allowed it here after a series of inspections. I mean, geez, how paranoid can you get? It's not as if this school isn't tainted with dirty people already," Pansy rolled her eyes while lightly stroking her antique vanity table. She looked very smug and seemed to be so in love with the motionless thing that she even had smacked Tracey's hand when she tried to touch it as well.

"How many times do I need to tell you not to touch my things?" Pansy shrieked at the glaring girl who was then currently throwing invisible daggers at her while nursing her mistreated hand.

Hermione decided that she had never met any brattier people in her life.

She was actually making history here.

"So, what do you think, Hermione?" Hermione almost jumped when Pansy's haughty and expectant face went directly in front of her nose. "It's amazing, isn't it? What do you think about the texture?" She asked her on tenterhooks while pulling her hand and placing them on top of her vanity table.

"I-I think it's really good. I love how smooth it is, and its intricate designs and baroque carvings are really exemplary," Hermione replied, looking concerned knowing that Tracey looked a bit hurt and offended that she wasn't able to do the same as Hermione. Weren't they supposed to be friends? What was seriously wrong with these people?

Pansy almost squealed with her reply. Hermione thought Pansy seemed to like her a thousand times better now just because of that compliment. She suddenly felt quite shallow.

"Finally! Someone who appreciates refined magnificence!" Pansy sighed dramatically as she sat down on her bed. "Imagine my mother's reaction when Dumbledore told her that I couldn't bring my vanity table in here! He wanted _me_ to use his dusty furniture, instead. He said we should all be uniformed with his precious students. Urgh, honestly, just because he accepts some dirty people in this school, doesn't mean I need to be one of them, let alone _mingle_ with them," Pansy shivered. Hermione noticed that Daphne and Tracey agreed with her and were also now shuddering and looking disgusted themselves.

She realized Tracey had completely forgotten her hate towards her friend and now had decided on hating the 'dirty people' Pansy was talking about instead.

Or maybe she was happy of being not the target of hate this time, or just the fact that putting down other people was just an entertaining hobby for them.

"We even envy you, Hermione. I mean, you don't have to face all the stress in joining some mudbloods in your meals. I heard your school doesn't accept those kinds in there. The parents are always summoned, making sure about their roots, before their children are accepted," Daphne mentioned, and had then proceeded on whining again on how her father didn't allow her to go to Beauxbatons just because it was far away from home.

"I really don't look at it that way," Hermione suddenly told them. She didn't know why but she would get really defensive when it would come to this topic. "I think your headmaster is an open-minded leader. Magic is very dangerous when not controlled and it's very important to teach its bearers whether or not they are bona fide dwellers of this world. I think it's very childish to have a partition in the group of people not because of their abilities but simply because of where they had come from. It's like saying that we shouldn't look at any of Leonardo da Vinci's works just because he was an illegitimate son of a notary and a peasant woman. It's like saying that the painters in our world are not right to look up to him just because he's non-magical too. Last time I checked, nobody can still ever top Mona Lisa's smile even how many times our wizards had used magic to do so," she added with an eloquent, profound grace in her tone.

By the time she looked back at them, Tracey was looking at her with great appreciation, almost like she was her new hero. Pansy had her mouth open to argue but on a blink second had closed it, only to realize that she had nothing to say and had looked confused more than ever. Daphne was smiling smugly at her with her hands crossed, looking impressed with her statement at the same time.

"Well, I can see why Draco's crazy over you. You're incredibly willful and insightful. I think Blaise isn't hoodwinking me this time," Daphne chuckled while pulling Hermione closer to her side of the room, reminding her friends that she had been close to her first.

Again, Hermione was reminded of her Barbie doll theory.

"So, Mione. What are your plans with Draco after this school year? You're aware that you're going to have a long distance relationship, right?" Daphne asked while pulling Hermione to sit beside her, looking like she was a concerned best friend all of a sudden.

"Poliakoff and I are already planning everything out, you know," Tracey suddenly said while sitting beside Hermione, obviously trying to catch her attention too. "He's such a sweet guy. He said that—"

"As if you two are going to last before he even goes away," Pansy rudely snorted while crossing her arms in front of Tracey.

"Oh, well. Give our girl another week, hun," Daphne chuckled at Pansy, definitely unaware of Tracey's raging and wounded reaction.

"You're just jealous because Draco's too scared to even have a glimpse on you, knowing that you might take that gesture too seriously again," Tracey suddenly told Pansy, earning a defensive growl from the latter.

"Good one," Daphne giggled fondly, looking as if she really enjoyed the hurtful banters of the two.

Hermione knew she really wasn't going to last in this kind of environment

"So… spill it out," Daphne suddenly started speaking to her again, looking mischievous than ever.

"Huh?"

"Spill it out, honey."

"Yeah, spill it out," Tracey nodded. The girls had stopped glaring at each other and were now pryingly looking at her.

"About my plans with Draco after this school year?" Hermione asked, looking really confused of what they were trying to let her 'spill out'.

"No, silly," Daphne laughed while shaking her head in earnest amusement. "I meant the deal with you and Draco. Did you two already… do it?"

"I…" Hermione frowned, until realization dawned on her and a faint blush had crept from her neck to her face when she did so. "N-No! Of course not!"

The girls looked at her thoughtfully, until they started to burst out laughing.

"Oh, that's a good one," Daphne shook her head, still giggling incessantly and even clutching her thin stomach out of mirth.

Seriously, do these girls even eat?

The laughing mania hadn't stopped, making Hermione even more uncomfortable. It was only when the girls realized that Hermione was really serious that they stopped laughing, their flushed faces replaced by confused and awestruck reactions instead.

"Good heavens, Blaise was really not throwing crap when he said how serious Draco really is," Daphne suddenly said, more to herself and more on a contemplative sort of way.

"W-What do you mean? What did Blaise say? What did Draco say to him?" Pansy asked. Hermione could swear she had never seen the girl more panicked than ever. It was a bit scary.

"It's between me and Blaise," Daphne replied with a sing-song voice, seemingly enjoying on torturing her friend. Yep, Slytherins were definitely sadistic people.

"What did Draco tell Blaise Zabini?" Hermione asked; looking a bit betrayed that Draco would go off telling whatever personal thing they had to his best friend. It made her feel like she was really a newly purchased toy, just like how these girls were treating her.

"I tried to warn you about Draco Malfoy, honey," Daphne tsked while caressing Hermione's soft curls, almost as if she was a concerned older sister now.

"He was my first," Pansy suddenly confessed, making Hermione look at her startlingly while the other girls rolled their eyes as if they'd heard this story over and over again. "We did it last year. I was stupid, but I was also _so_ in love with him too. I'm not now though, don't get me wrong, Hermione. I'm just trying to warn you."

"Yes, well, Draco's hot but he's also an arse. Everybody in this school knows that. Maybe that's why he's settling on you just because you're an innocent foreign student whom he could fish. Good thing you hadn't completely fallen for his tricks though. Trust me, if he finally gets what he wants, you'll be just like us; discarded just like that," Daphne nodded while snapping her fingers together.

Hermione suddenly couldn't do or say anything but concentrate on her breathing; it had gotten a bit too hurtful to do so.

"We, girls, should stick together, you know. Guys can't be trusted easily, Hermione, especially guys like _Draco Malfoy_. We're just really genuinely concerned about you," Pansy added.

The girls waited for her answer, but Hermione knew she just couldn't say anything back.

Can Draco really do that to her?

He did tell her that he would wait and that he respected her, right?

But was it just because he wanted something from her and he would proceed on leaving her when he would finally get it?

Adrian had always reminded her on how much Draco had changed, and on how many girls he really had played with; yet, she had often acted blind in all of it.

But right now, personally witnessing and listening to the things that he had done to these girls screamed very differently.

It was like being pushed into the truth she had so eagerly ignored.

Here it was.

The very girls whom he had hurt were now telling her face to face about it.

And it hurt. It really did. It almost felt like she was finally being confirmed as being this stupid girl and she felt ashamed, and well, stupid.

It actually stung a lot that she even felt her eyes starting to water, like some strange pollen flew by to irritate them.

"I'm very sorry to have put you to all of these, Hermione, but really, it's the truth. As I've said, that's the game here. You can be with Draco for as long as you want, but it's just not safe to give everything and trust him, you know," Daphne said while lightly placing her dainty hand on her shoulder.

"So true. You know, in the end, it will still always be us, girls, who will be looking out for each other," Pansy nodded.

"I-I just… I think I need to go now. I, er, have some things to do," Hermione tried to smile but only managed a grimace. Her quivering lips and misty eyes were being quite persistent more than ever and the last thing that she wanted to do was to cry in front of them.

"Wait, Hermione," Daphne suddenly stopped her while tugging on her hand gently, looking genuinely concerned. "I suddenly feel like crap for saying those things to you, but you understand that we're just really trying to help, right?" She asked, looking really sorry. It made Hermione's labored breathing even harder.

Hermione just nodded. "I-I know," she whispered inaudibly as she bit her lip, trying so hard not to break down.

"Can you let us at least make up for it?" Tracey told her, also looking very worried of Hermione's trampled state. "Please?"

"I really don't know. I just… I just need some time alone, please."

"But we really feel awful now, don't we girls?" Pansy said sympathetically, followed by sad nods from her friends. "We really want to make up for it."

"Pansy, please, I'll be okay. Really, you don't have to—"

"Tell you what, why don't we have an all girls night out this evening?" Daphne suddenly suggested. "I have a friend from the seventh year, and she told me about a certain exclusive three days party by the Puddlemere United Quidditch Team members for their win against the Tutshill Tornados**. **It will be at Hogsmeade this night, at Spintwitches. It'll be their third day today, so it will surely be a blast. The store is being transformed into this really cool pub every night for three days. There are no tickets whatsoever, but the information's only greatly reserved for those with connections as it's quite private. The team paid for it pretty big, you know. My friend's brother is in the team and she said that they wanted Hogsmeade because it's pretty close to Hogwarts and well, they're kind of interested with some cute _adventurous_ school girls, if you know what I mean," she smirked while winking at her two friends, which made them giggle naughtily.

"B-But that's illegal. We're not allowed to get out of Hogwarts so late," Hermione told them. "And the gates are closed and heavily guarded with strong enchantments. That's impossible."

"Well, my friend is of age, and her brother already petitioned her and some of her classmates for the parties," Daphne started to explain.

"You're forgetting that we're _not _your friends' classmates. And we're _not_ of age, Daphne. Stop being delusional," Tracey rolled her eyes while crossing her arms impatiently, looking very disappointed that she wasn't going to meet more older guys because of that flaw.

"I'm not done yet, Tracey. And I know that. Stop being an idiot," Daphne spat back at her. Tracey just harrumphed, but thought best to shut her mouth anyway. "This is where you, Hermione, would come into the picture," she continued while facing roguishly at the brunette.

"M-Me? Why?"

"You're friends with Ginny Weasley, right? We've seen you talking to her at times," Daphne uttered.

"Yes, I am. But what's this got to do with her?" Hermione asked, immensely curious of why her friend should be dragged into this insubordinate idea. She had been friends with Ginny despite of Draco and Adrian's displeasure. She found her and her Gryffindor friends immensely pleasant and friendly despite of what Draco or Adrian would say.

Daphne smirked and curled her finger to gesture to the girls to come nearer as she started to mischievously whisper her secret, only continuing when they were all close enough to hear her. "Well, I saw her and her gangly brother, together with that Potter with this really weird map, you know. I don't know what it is. They seem to call it Marauders or something. I heard them talking about it at the library, about some secret portal going out of Hogwarts," she smirked even more arrogantly when she heard the girls gasp in awe from her new discovery.

"I-I can't just steal it away from Ginny. She's my friend," Hermione shook her head, still very wary about all these.

"You won't steal it away, then," Pansy replied simply. "Just tell her about our little plan and ask her to go with us."

"Are you serious? She's a bloodtraitor! And she's a prissy. She'll just go off and tell her Gryffindor mates about it and we're sure to be the reason why Slytherin loses every points there will ever be," Tracey breathed, looking appalled of Pansy's suggestion. Daphne seemed to agree as she nodded hysterically; still sticking to the plan she had on mind on how Hermione should just steal that darn map.

"No, she won't," Pansy announced confidently. "I heard her complaining to this certain girl named Parvati Patil or maybe her twin Padma, I dunno, urgh, whatever," she rolled her eyes annoyingly, hating the concept of people having twins and confusing other people at the process. "Well, anyway, she was talking about how she's being so annoyed with her brothers on continually treating her like a small child. I know she wants to secretly get away. I know an ambitious slut when I see one."

Hermione thought that there could be no one who could be meaner and nosier than these Slytherin girls. Eavesdropping and backstabbing seemed to be another enjoying hobby of theirs.

"Well, she does have a little potential," Tracey said while she squinted, seemingly trying to consider the matter really hard. Hermione had to look away for a while though; because for a second there, Tracey really looked like a brainless bimbo, and she hated herself for even thinking that way.

Perhaps, the Slytherin bitchiness was kind of infectious.

"Hmm. She may be a bloodtraitor, but at least, she's still a pureblood. And she has a really nice hair, despite of the Weasley weirdness. She's too young, but it will do. She's not ugly so she won't embarrass us that much," Daphne muttered pensively.

"So, what do you say, Hermione?" Pansy suddenly asked her excitedly.

"Come on! One night won't hurt," Tracey grinned at her.

Hermione was speechless for a while as she stared back at them.

She knew she would be breaking all the rules if she would say yes.

But she was just a bit delirious from all the things she had discovered today.

And looking back at them, she was reminded of the girls whom Draco had played with.

Victims of love, as some people would put it.

Suddenly, all that she could really think about was rage and resentment.

It was like an irresistible power of rebelliousness was dragging her because of this.

It was too overwhelming.

Too overwhelming, actually, that she had to utter her next words…

"Yes, count me in."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Some little info:**

**In the HP canon, Poliakoff was**** one of the Durmstrang delegations who traveled to ****Hogwarts to compete in the ****Triwizard Tournament**** (he was the Durmstrang student who implied that he wanted some wine during the feast, but Igor Karkaroff refused to give it to him and offered it to Viktor Krum instead).**

**Also, in the canon, it was the Durmstrang School that actually excludes and does not admit any muggleborns in their school. But I also applied that rule in Beauxbatons in this story as it is important for the plot. **

**Two Quidditch Teams mentioned in this chapter:**

**Tutshill Tornados ****– ****Quidditch team which plays in the ****British and Irish Quidditch League****. Cho Chang is a supporter of this team ever since she was six years old.**

**Puddlemere United****- Quidditch team which plays in the ****British and Irish Quidditch League****. In the canon, Oliver Wood joined this Quidditch team as a reserve after graduating from Hogwarts. **

* * *

**A/N:**

**I'm very sorry for not updating for so long, but I have a very good reason. I just graduated university last year, and by the grace of God, passed the National board exam to have my oath; so last month, I got my official license and I had this big exam in this regional hospital that I **_**really**_** wanted to work in. I've always been a believer of having delayed gratification, and I wanted to focus on studying and by that, I needed to let go of any writing for a while. **

**The world of fanfiction had always been my guilty pleasure. Once I start to write at times, I usually get stuck without noticing the time. Last thing I know, hours and hours have already been spent and it's like I'm in this beautiful but unrealistic trance while just typing and writing. There was even a time when I started writing at night, and then when I glanced out the window, the sun was already peeking at me. Pretty alarming, isn't it? Haha.**

**Well, the point is, I'm just a simple muggle who wishes to have a time turner but have no way in getting it. So, I'm sorry for updating very late. Please don't give up on me.**

**And thank you guys for all your reviews and because of that, I really promise on finishing this story. I don't just make any promises, so there you go. :D **

**Have a beautiful and blessed day!**

**Chocolate frogs and sweet pumpkin pasties,**

**Sue**


	15. Damsel in Distress

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"**Damsel in Distress"**

Hermione felt like walking in an odd stupor.

No, scratch that.

She was actually on a stupor, and her legs felt like jelly.

She couldn't believe how so easy it had all been to talk to Ginny about this entire stupid plan and she couldn't believe that the younger girl had to only hesitate for a little before actually saying yes.

Somewhere along their talk, Hermione was wishing so hard that she would say no, and by then, she wouldn't have to go on with everything.

She felt like she was coercing some minor.

Hell, she was even a minor, herself!

Ginny was just too young to comprehend whether or not this act was wrong and Hermione couldn't help but feel very responsible for all of these.

How the hell did she even turn into this mutinous wench?

All her life, she had been nothing but obedient and abiding to the rules.

She was the youngest among the delegates and her presence together with the older students was not even a debate. Her school's headmistress herself had asked her to go with them and no one seemed to even think twice about it despite of her age difference.

They all trusted her.

They all looked up to her.

She was a model student, for pity's sake.

Now here she was, walking nervously on this strange and narrow passageway going out of Hogwarts. The dingy smell of the surroundings was trying to tickle her nostrils in a very uncomfortable way.

She looked back, still on her half-crouched position, just to make sure that Ginny was safely following her. She was securely holding her hand, but she just had to make sure that she was okay. The girl looked very scared among the muted light, but a look of elated excitement was also etched on her freckled innocent face.

Merlin, she was just too young for all these.

When Ginny noticed that Hermione was looking at her, the younger girl gave her a wide grin, almost even a grateful, indebted one.

Hermione didn't know why her eyes were a bit misty now too, but she tried her hardest to give her a securing smile.

"We're almost there," Pansy squealed delightfully as the girls squinted further to see the small light coming from a little lumber room. "Stay as quiet as possible once you're out. We don't know whether or not this room is occupied even at night."

One by one, the girls had stealthily ducked out, looking like owls among the wondrous night as they looked around a little basement filled with discarded sweets, some were even quite putrid and their syrupy but expired state made the odor quite unpleasant.

"Basement of Honeydukes," Daphne grinned widely while reading the map that Ginny had lent them. Hermione couldn't help but think about Alice finally finding her wonderland, except that all the sweets in here seemed to be quite poisonous due to expiration.

"Oh my gosh, I can't believe we did it," Tracey jumped around, looking very flush while trying to cover her mouth from screeching loudly. She looked like a squished fish in the process.

"This is because of you, little girl. You know, we actually think you should go hang out with us more often," Daphne smirked at Ginny, who was then grinning tearfully at the girls, really looking like she just had her dreams come true.

"Now, let's go ladies," Daphne continued, whisking her blonde hair away in a seductive manner before turning around for the basement's door.

"Thank you for this, Hermione," Ginny whispered gratefully at the older girl before following the others. Ginny was bursting in happiness as Hermione stared at her; maybe this wasn't as twisted as she thought. Maybe she really should lighten up a bit.

She was only breaking rules once in a blue moon, so she might as well enjoy it then.

She knew that Draco would be horrified once he would learn about this.

But he really should have had thought of that more earnestly before he decided to keep things from her, didn't he?

She was still mad at him, and perhaps he had even noticed it when he got back from Professor Snape's office to take her back to her carriage. He had asked her what's wrong but she just shrugged and told him that she was just tired and wanted to rest for a while.

It was true of course, since by 'tired', she meant she was upset. _Very_ upset.

And she really needed some rest, since she was obviously going out that night, without him knowing of course.

Oh yeah, she felt a little proud about that, and well, really rebellious.

Irrevocably and genuinely _rebellious_.

The sensation even felt more powerful when they had finally gone out of the Honeydukes store.

The alley was very dark, making the sky and its stars the center of all complexity.

She could feel her friends' excited giggles and hilarity. Tracey was jumping around again. Pansy was closing her eyes and laughing while turning her head and arms towards the sky as she swirled around among the empty alley, her pretty dress swaying in tune with the imaginary music. Daphne was laughing with them and Ginny felt like she could burst in tears due to too much excitement and wonder.

Hermione suddenly couldn't help her lips to twitch a little in a jovial smirk.

The breeze screamed liberty.

The alley was splayed right there in front of them like they owned it for the night.

Even her lips tasted like freedom as she bit them to keep herself from screaming.

To say that her feelings were mixed was an understatement.

She was all meshed up, like a pulverized ingredient mixed with diverse elements in potion making.

She was incredibly guilty, but this guiltiness made her feel more alive too; like she could do everything for the first time without thinking of its consequences.

All her life, she had been imprisoned inside a golden cage, tonight felt like freedom, and she wanted to embrace it to its full aptitude.

She just felt so excited.

Very, _very_ excited.

"Oh lookie here! A goblet filled with pumpkin fizzes," Pansy laughed as she suddenly reached down on her handbag and stretched her hands playfully to the girls, making them gasp from the realization of what she had just done.

"Good heavens, Pansy, you _stole_ it!" Tracey covered her mouth outrageously as she stared at Pansy, who was then chuckling boisterously while scooping some of the forbidden sweets from the goblet and eating them seductively, like a girl paid for a certain advertisement.

"Want some?" Pansy giggled, still wiggling the goblet on her hands.

"Don't be such a prude, Tracey!" Daphne chuckled while scooping some for herself and throwing the others to Tracey, who then whined and stomped her foot in annoyance.

"But that's stealing," Hermione suddenly uttered, making Ginny relentlessly nod beside her, her lips pursed and her eyes widening in a very nervous way.

"Such killjoy, you guys," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll take it back," she shrugged before harshly throwing the goblet into the Honeydukes pristine window.

The goblet had hit the window with a loud crash as its glass shattered loudly into pieces. The girls could only scream and run as fast they could from the mess that they had just made.

The cold breeze continued to hit Hermione's cheeks as she ran for her life, making sure Ginny's hand was clutching hers tightly.

At first, all she could really feel was endless culpability and the consequences they could be facing for breaking an innocent store's window and for all the things they had done just seconds ago.

She almost felt like crying due to nervousness, until the fear in her system suddenly transformed mainly into adrenaline rush.

She was running.

She was actually running away from it.

No consequence was possible just because she was running.

And it felt darn good.

In the most twisted, irrational way, it actually felt good.

She suddenly found herself laughing endlessly with the girls as they panted and stopped at a certain alley. Daphne and Pansy were laughing their brains out while clutching tightly on their stomach as they panted, trying to compensate on the oxygen they had just lost. Ginny was still clutching Hermione's hand and was now laughing loudly, making her shoulder as leverage for her imbalanced state. Tracey looked like she was going to pass out as she laughed uncontrollably while lying carelessly on the empty alley ground.

Hermione didn't know an all girls night out could be as fun and crazy like this, and they hadn't even reached the party yet.

"I'm all so cracked up, you guys! Look at me; I'm idiotically lying on this stupid ground. This coming morning, when all the people would walk in here, they wouldn't realize I just owned this street in this time of hour," Tracey squeaked, still chuckling fondly as she stared at the stars on her position. "My mother will get so hysterical if she will ever know about this. I swear all her hair's going to fall out just by the thought of it," she chuckled while imagining the image of her aristocratic, but bald mother.

Hermione suddenly realized in that very second, the very reason why for the first time, she felt so unremorseful for what they had done.

She was just like them.

They were her fellow prisoners.

All her life, she needed to be good. She needed to do this and do that.

Right now, however, she felt like she could do anything.

No matter how mean these girls really were and how different their beliefs were from her, she just knew that inside them was this same girl who just wanted to grow up, get away and be free from all these chains.

"This is the best night of my life!" Ginny screamed animatedly to the heavens, making the girls chuckle in amusement.

Pansy suddenly had this wicked glint in her eyes before turning to Daphne and whispering something to the girl, who then had giggled impishly at her.

"So, are you girls ready to meet some real _men_?" Daphne asked when she had finally evened her breathing while straightening her ruffled, skimpy skirt.

Tracey jumped up from her current position while Pansy squealed in delight. Ginny looked suddenly nervous, but also incredibly keyed up, her large doe eyes widening more than ever.

Hermione couldn't do anything but suddenly get lost in her thoughts.

Like a snap, Pansy's statement went into her mind in a whirling confusion. She had almost forgotten the real reason why they were here at the first place. They were here to actually meet some guys. She had agreed with it because she was angry at Draco, but it was quite remarkable that the only guy whom she really wanted to meet was, well, Draco…

She had then finally understood why she was really here at the first place.

She actually didn't want to meet any guys. Hell no, that wasn't the reason at all.

She just wanted to break some rules.

She just wanted some adventure, because of _him_.

She wanted to rebel against _him_.

She wanted _him_ to know that she was upset, and that she was revolting against _him_.

She wanted to do the craziest thing and the most foolish stunt to make _him_ mad.

She wanted _him_ to get mad _and_ get worried of her.

She wanted _him_ to know that she was capable of being free spirited too, without his help.

She wanted _him_ to get really furious about all these… She was like a wanting rebellious kid just trying to get her parents' attention.

She wanted _his_ _attention_. She wanted it above all else.

She wanted _him_ to be here.

The bottomline was that, she just wanted _him_.

She just wanted Draco and no one else.

She was crazy.

She was too busy being lost inside her thoughts that she hadn't realized that they were suddenly heading on a different path. "I don't think this is the way to Spintwitches," she reminded them.

It was dark, but she had always been good at directions and she was just positive that they were heading in the opposite way.

"Well, it is," Daphne giggled, locking her arm with Pansy, who was then chuckling and singing a certain song. Hermione had never seen anyone as carefree as this. They seemed to look really trouble free. She wondered why she was still a little worried though.

"Look, here we are!" Pansy suddenly clapped her hands happily as she pointed at a certain creepy and shabby looking antique door just meters away from them.

"No, this isn't Splintwitches," Hermione said worriedly. "You do realize we're in the wrong alley, right? Splintwitches is just a couple of blocks away from Hogs Head. And we're in the middle of little abandoned inns. We're in the middle of nowhere, Pansy," Hermione explained concernedly.

"Oh hush," Pansy just frowned. "Here, let little Weasley take a peek inside," she added as she opened the door while pulling Ginny to see what's inside.

"I-It's too dark. I can't see a thing," Ginny told them while poking her head a little to see what's inside. It was pure darkness, more like a black hole. Even when she tried to use her wand for a little light, it didn't help a thing as all she could see were dingy and grayish cracked walls.

"Get inside and see then!"

Ginny suddenly shrieked as she was pushed inside by Daphne without warning. Everything went too unbelievably fast and last thing they knew, Daphne had harshly slammed the door and had even muttered some spell locking enchantments into it. This act just earned some fond giggles from her classmates, almost as if she just cracked a seriously funny joke.

"What have you done?" Hermione screamed outrageously, too horrified beyond words on what her 'so-called' friends had just done.

"Placing her to her rightful place, of course," Daphne replied casually while rubbing and patting her hands a little from the dusts and soot of the door. It was as if she had just finally done a required assignment.

"You're out of your mind!" Hermione shouted despicably while pulling her wand to undo what Daphne had done. She could still hear Ginny's muffled cry at the other side of the door, and she felt like crying for even letting the girls do this to her.

"What are you doing, Hermione? Let's go before someone catches us!" Tracey suddenly shouted while trying to pry Hermione's wand away from the door.

"No! I won't leave her here! Why are you doing this? What has she done to you?"

"Can't you see, Hermione? She's a bloodtraitor! And besides the fact that she's so disgustingly poor, she also happens to be a Gryffindor. We're just merely trying to teach her a lesson on not being too ambitious for her own good!" Pansy screamed at her. "Now let's go before someone catches us!" She hissed while urgently pulling her hand.

"If something happens to her, it will be our entire fault! You can't place her there forever!" Hermione argued while whisking her hand away from Pansy, feeling her lungs deflating from all the screaming and the powerful fretful pumping of her heart.

"We'll get her out of there tomorrow morning. I know a little enchantment that will obscure her from telling the truth about this night. She'll be a good girl and will be too scared to talk about this. One night won't harm her. Now, let's go. You're starting to get on my nerves, Hermione," Daphne shushed her.

"No! Please! This is just too much! Can't you hear her cries inside? Please!" Hermione pleaded. "She suffered enough! It's enough! Now, just let me help her and so no one gets hurt. This can lead us to serious trouble if not properly done. You know the consequences," she said, trying to give them selfish reasons now just so she could save Ginny.

"Daphne, she has a point, you know. Sooner or later, Ginny Weasley's going to get out of there and we'll all be in trouble if your enchantment doesn't work," Tracey butted in.

"Well, what if she doesn't get out, then? There are a lot of evil people in this alley," Pansy suddenly uttered uncaringly.

"A-Are you fucking serious? This is just supposed to be a prank! I-I'm not a criminal or something," Tracey stammered while anxiously rubbing her arms together. The breeze seemed to be colder now than a while ago when they were laughing.

"Alright, fine! Get the stupid girl out of there and bring her back to Hogwarts. But make it quick. I have a party to attend to," Pansy told Hermione, looking pissed and annoyed as she opened her handbag to reapply some gloss on her semi-dried lips.

Hermione didn't waste any time and swung the door widely by the time Daphne had reversed her spell. She waved her wand for a light and saw nothing, that was, until she had looked down. She stepped in and had almost stumbled when she squinted further and realized that there was actually a long and very narrow stoned stairs going inside.

The room had an underground space, which was why they hadn't seen a thing a while ago… and Ginny Weasley was just harshly pushed inside…

"Ginny!" Hermione shouted shockingly as she went down the stoned stairs and saw the crying bloodied girl. Her leg was twisted at a disgustingly strange angle and Hermione knew how much damage she had gotten by falling off the stairs. Her head was also oozing with blood and there were bruises on her chin and wounds on some of her bony prominences.

"Oh shit! She's hurt! She's hurt, you guys!" Tracey screamed horrifyingly as she covered her mouth with her trembling hands.

"Dammit! Let's run! Come on!" Pansy looked panicked while clutching on her handbag and trying to pry the stunned Daphne away from them.

"W-Wait! Aren't we going to help them?" Tracey asked nervously while staring at Hermione who was then trying her best to perform some healing spells to the crying and a little delirious girl.

"Are you nuts? We might get in trouble! Let's get out of here!" Pansy shouted at her before scampering away, followed by a speechless dumbfounded Daphne.

"Tracey… Please… Help us," Hermione pleaded as she looked up at the troubled girl, who was then the only one left rooted by the door.

Tracey gestured to walk inside to help them, but in a sudden split second had stopped with a great amount of hesitancy on her fearful face.

"I'm so sorry," she suddenly whispered softly, looking genuinely repentant as she finally turned around and ran away, following her cowardly friends.

Hermione couldn't help but cry harder while still cradling the almost half conscious Ginny, like a lost mother crying and begging in the streets for a little food for her dying child.

This was all her fault.

She was just too stupid beyond all else.

She didn't even know if she even deserved to join the delegations from Beauxbatons anymore.

She was the youngest delegate and her headmistress had always been so proud of her.

She was always referred to as this perfect student, with perfect grades, perfect and exemplary magical abilities, perfect roots… perfect life.

She belonged in the most prominent assemblage of her age; she was one of the strongest, the most renowned… the crème de la crème.

Yet, now, all that she really could do was to cry, like a damsel in distress… weak and feeble.

"I'm so sorry about all these, Ginny. This is my entire fault," she sobbed while trying so hard to apply a constant pressure on the girl's bleeding forehead by her torn clothing so as she wouldn't lose a great amount of blood. She had somehow managed to immobilize Ginny's fractured leg to prevent further damage by transfiguring her bag into a stable splinting material and placing it along the underside of her leg, making sure it extended over the underside of her knee to below her heel.

She just wished that she had at least told Draco where she was going.

Sure, she had been hurt and was terribly angry with him, but she knew that she couldn't really trust anyone else more than she could to Draco.

Adrian had always been there, but he had betrayed her by keeping huge secrets from her before, and until now, it was still quite difficult for her brother to gain all the amount of her trust back. She knew it would never be the same after that.

Draco hadn't been exactly honest to her too, but he hadn't really lied to her. He'd just been quiet about it and if only she had been a bit understanding and had talked to him about her concerns, then maybe she wouldn't be ending up like this.

_I'll never let anyone hurt you, princess. We're a team now, okay? Me and you; I'll always be with you whatever happens. __Nothing __will change that. I promise._

"Help me, Draco," she suddenly found herself crying while closing her eyes. "I need you now, Draco. Please… come and save me…"

Hermione didn't really believe that much on wishes or silly genies in the bottles.

This was no fairytale, after all.

She knew calling for his name was just useless.

Until now…

"Hermione!"

"D-Draco?"

* * *

**A/N: **

**Ah… to be a teen and be carelessly stupid. Lol. And yes, I had actually really lain on an empty street before too; well, not just on a street but on a **_**highway**_**. It was dangerously stupid. DON'T ever try it, unless you want to die being stupid, which is **_**so not**_** cool, by the way.**

**The song for this chapter is "The Harold Song" by Ke$ha**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and please tell me what you think? And am I being too slow in the progress of the story? If so, just tell me and I'll try really hard to straighten it up. I'm just trying to iron some things and so I could use them for the future chapters that I have planned. There are just some things that I needed to write before going to the more important ones. Please do tell me about your concerns and they will be greatly appreciated. Constructive criticisms will definitely help me. God bless! Thank you so much! :)**

**Love, Sue**


	16. The Way You Look At Me

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Sixteen**

"**The Way You Look At Me"**

Hermione couldn't see that much because of the dark surroundings and with only just her wand serving as a dusky light. Her tears had blurred her vision and the painful thrusting of her heart was trying to obscure that faint sound she just heard, or thought she had heard.

The voice sounded urgent, like someone was really trying to look for her. It was coming from the outside, roughly just a few blocks away. She wanted to run and find out who it was, or if her bungled imagination was just playing with her but she also didn't want to leave Ginny alone.

She needed to make sure that she was okay and that all the splintered extremities and bony prominences in her body were securely immobilized before she could finally levitate her back to the castle. She couldn't afford any more damage after what the girl had gone through.

And so, she shouted for help.

It was bruising for her pride and ego but who the hell really cared when you're in a situation like this?

"Help us! Please! Is anyone out there? Please! Help us!" She cried desperately and hoped that the voice of Draco she had heard a while ago wasn't just a product of her delirious mind. Her voice sounded raw of crying and it hurt to shout, but she would never let any opportunity of help slip away. "We're down here! Please! Help us!"

She was shaking endlessly both because of the chilliness of the night as well as due to her anxiousness, but she just couldn't give up. She stopped herself from crying and evened her breathing as she gathered all her strength to shout again when she suddenly heard some footsteps coming towards their direction. The person seemed to have heard her shout and was running nearer to them. "We're here! We're down here!" She shouted pleadingly at the stranger, out of breath but still very determined.

"Hermione! I can hear you! Shout harder so I can find where you are!"

"D-Draco?" She was just sure it was him. She had memorized his voice by heart. She suddenly couldn't help but cry harder again. "Draco! We're down here! At the opened old door, Draco! We're here!"

And just like a knight in shining armour, Draco Malfoy had emerged from the aged door. He wasn't on a horse nor was he wearing any golden armour, whatsoever. He was in his plain black robes and was even panting due to his run. His hair was tousled in a very messy way and the small puffs of his ragged breath created little smoke from the cold surroundings as the light from his wand hit the level of his face.

It hadn't started snowing yet, but it was still remarkably cold. Hermione wondered why she hadn't even felt it that much when they were fooling around the alley a while ago. Oh, right. She was too busy being stupid.

And right now, knowing too well the very consequences of her act, she just couldn't help but cry harder as she looked up and saw the very man she had tried to rebel against.

Hermione had never seen any person looking more anxious and worried than what he had looked right now. Agonized creases were outstandingly etched on his face as he stared down at her. He looked more than terrified as his eyes roamed around to see what had happened.

"Hermione!" He shouted breathlessly as he ran towards them, even almost jumping from the door to the bottom of the stairs itself. "Oh Merlin, are you okay? Huh? Are you hurt? What the hell happened? Did you hurt yourself? What do you feel? Are you okay?" He asked her worriedly while urgently examining each part of her body as if a single scratch could be life threatening.

"I-I'm okay, Draco. But—"

"What the bloody hell were you even thinking? Fuck! Don't you even know how dangerous it is to wander out in this time of night? And with those barmy sluts too! Well, you know what? You're _not _thinking at all! Something worse could have happened to you. But no! You haven't even thought of that!" He suddenly shouted at her despicably. The worry creases on his face were replaced by a very angry flashing glare by the moment he had assured that she wasn't hurt.

Draco knew he was being too much for shouting at her like this, but he was just too angry and damn worried that he just needed to vent all his frustrations out. He just knew something was seriously wrong by the time he got back to get her from those girls. He really shouldn't have had let her stay with Daphne at the first place. That wench was a bit fatally as dangerous as her crazy younger sister, Astoria. Imagine his surprise seeing Hermione with her friends as well.

He just knew they must have had poisoned her mind while he was drowning himself from all of Snape's endless lectures to him about, well, the reason why Potter really got that spot at the Triwizard tournament. He'd always been very curious why, but now that his godfather had finally decided to tell him, he really didn't want to talk nor think about it any longer.

He had always looked up to his father's principles and he genuinely believed in them. But he honestly thought that he was being out of bounds at times. That riot that killed and injured a lot of people at the Quidditch World Cup was a perfect example.

His father was sadistically evil, and he had lived with that. He had survived deep excruciating wounds, broken bones and endless whipping. The scars etched on his back until now could very well prove it. But one thing that he couldn't really embrace fully was his brutality just to get to the top, even killing people just so he could verify and secure that certain actuality.

Snape had warned him that this year wouldn't be the same as it had always been. Nowhere would be safe now.

Their talk had been pretty long and serious that he ended up like a man with his soul just being sucked in by a dementor when he had finally gone out of his Potion professor's dungeon.

Everything was just too much for him. He could even swear he was a thousand times even more paranoid as he walked through the hallway looking at all the innocent paintings and tapestries as if they were suddenly some transfigured death-eaters.

For a son of a death-eater, himself, it was pretty disgraceful for his part to act that way.

And then, Hermione had to double up the stress.

He was hoping he could spend more time with her, embrace her and kiss her just to calm him somehow. But she suddenly wanted to get away from him, declaring she was just bloody tired.

Just as a typical paranoid or rather a pessimistic person would do, he started thinking of all the negative things that could have happened why she was suddenly acting that way.

He had even confronted Daphne and her stupid girl friends but they just laughed at him. Pansy had even implied that he was acting that way since he just really needed to shag someone. Bitch.

He didn't get a good sleep that night. Hermione had never even showed herself at the Great Hall during the evening meal. When he tried to see her outside of her carriage, one of her schoolmates informed him that she was already asleep and he just had to come back tomorrow.

He found himself sulking and obstinately cursing on his way to his dorm. Hell, he didn't even know his cursing vocabulary was as massive as that.

For hours, he had lay wide awake on his bed; until he could take it no longer and decided to crash inside the Beauxbatons coach to demand her to talk to him. Detentions be damned.

It was when he suddenly saw Pansy and the others secretly going out of the dormitory just as he was. He then decided to eavesdrop a bit until he heard them talking about _a girls' night out with Hermione._

To say that he was angry was a certain underestimation. He was more than livid, actually.

A girls' night out? Without _his_ permission? And what the fuck was she even thinking on going out of Hogwarts this time of the night? And then, there was this _nowhere is safe_ thing that Snape's chilly drawl had just engraved in his head. The thought of Hermione being in trouble alone had seriously harmed the regular rhythm of his sanity.

He was fuming but he knew he couldn't show himself yet. He was definitely going to talk to Hermione about this, but he just had to make sure she was alright first. He knew something was bothering her and it was all because of these dim-witted girls.

He decided that he didn't want them knowing about his assumptions of them corrupting Hermione's mind, so he resolved on just secretly pulling her away from them.

Well, it was until that Weasley girl showed herself too. The girl was locking her hands tightly with Hermione which made it too impossible for him to snatch her away.

By then, he had no choice but to follow them instead to make sure of Hermione's welfare. He was even shocked that Hogwarts even had this secret passage out.

That fact grimly didn't help him from eradicating Snape's daunting warning from his head.

He was very troubled but he had to make sure he was out of sight so he needed to keep his distance. It wasn't very easy, seeing that the girls seemed to be too excited to stay in one place and he could easily lose them if not properly done.

It was when Pansy started to pull off that stunt of breaking the store's window that he had completely lost track of them. He was temporarily distracted by the shattered glasses that almost hit his head and he hadn't noticed them running all of a sudden.

He really thought he wouldn't be able to find them and had even found himself wandering around the creepy alley, not knowing which way to go.

It was when he heard Hermione's voice that he started shouting, running and finding her like a hysterical shepherd looking for his precious lost lamb.

He could swear he had never been in a more stressful situation like this, which was why no one could really blame him for violently venting out his frustrations nonstop.

"You're unbelievable! Really unbelievable! If you're mad at me or something, you could at least tell it straight to my face, not go out and kill yourself, dammit!" He added as if having an enormous sermon to a small child, not quite done yet with his ranting madness. "You _don't_ even know what kind of shitbrains are out here during this time! Fuck! Now look at what happened! If I didn't find you, what could have had possibly happened to you? Huh? Do you even fucking realize that? You could—"

"I'm sorry, Draco," Hermione suddenly uttered, making him suddenly stop at those gentle words.

He stared at her and saw her looking up at him with those innocent, big, round doe eyes…

He hadn't realized that she had been crying and that she was already visibly shaking. She looked so vulnerable that he couldn't help but be a little guilty for his uncontrolled rant.

"I'm so sorry for making you worry, Draco. I won't do it again. I promise I'll take care of myself from now on," she told him shakily like that of a child.

There was just something in the way that she had looked at him that made him feel like melting.

She just looked so innocent and so fragile and so beautiful that he couldn't help but fall into that damn softer side of him.

Her round misty eyes and quivering lips just did it all for him.

"Ssh… It's alright, Mione. It's okay. I'm here now. You'll be fine now," he whispered caringly at her while scooping her small frame into his arms and kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. You know I did it because I'm just really worried, right? Tsk… please, stop crying now. Come on. We should get you both out of here," he gently said while taking off his robe and wrapping it around Hermione's trembling shoulder.

This girl could _seriously_ mess with his emotions any time.

"Ginny's hurt, Draco. I'm afraid of levitating her. It'll further her damage," she told him worriedly, wiping the tears in her eyes with the back of her trembling hand.

"Alright," Draco sighed as he wiped her tears with his thumb while gently cupping her face. He knew that she was trying to ask him to _carry_ the injured younger girl. A certain Ginny Weasley to be exact.

Urgh. He was going to help _and_ carry a blood traitor.

Why the hell was she even here? Ambitious bint.

But whatever it was that he was thinking, he tried his hardest to shut it all down and not let it travel and linger into his tongue again. He knew that Hermione was already scared enough, and it appeared that she was really worried of the half conscious girl on his arms as they traveled back to the Honeydukes' portal to Hogwarts.

Merlin, he could really do anything for this girl.

She could be the reason of his insanity in the near future.

* * *

"Please stay, Draco," Hermione whispered while snuggling into her boyfriend's protective embrace.

They were now at the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey had bombarded them with questions from the moment that they had entered while carrying an almost unconscious girl. It was indeed very late; almost midnight, and it was just proper logic that she had to shoot them with suspicious glares and endless interrogations after she had ensured the girls' stability and welfare.

Draco had answered all the questions at first, seeing how still shaken Hermione was. The older witch had asked her to stay in the infirmary for the night in order for her vital signs to be monitored, just in case.

After both the girls were given some calming potion, Madam Pomfrey went back to her questioning tirade. Draco had tried to take all the blame, but Hermione butted in and told Madam Pomfrey that it was him who had even saved them.

Hermione told the infirmary keeper that she and Ginny were staying up late, trying to research about the clue of the golden egg from the first task. Hermione was Fleur Delacour's ally and it was expected of her to do research for their school's champion. Ginny was there as well, for Harry's behalf.

It was quite a common knowledge that Hermione had been friendly with the Gryffindors, especially with Ginny, her brother Ron, and her brother's best friend Harry, who was then the fourth champion. So there was no question while they were trying to help each other.

Seeing that the multiple flight of stairs in the Grand Staircase in Hogwarts usually moved around from platform to platform, Hermione had explained that she and Ginny had a bit of trouble with it when they started to go back into their own respected places after their research.

By then, Ginny had an accident when she tried to jump out of the staircase that had moved into a certain forbidden platform instead of moving towards the Gryffindor's portrait hole. It was a good thing that Draco had been there to save her and had brought the both of them to the safety of the infirmary as soon as possible.

Madam Pomfrey had then asked why Draco Malfoy was even there. Draco had simply stared at her as if she was nuts and as if the answer was too obvious to even be discussed. He had even ranted on about how he had been worried sick of his girlfriend and he needed to check on her and bring her back to the safety of her carriage after a stressful overtime research.

Whatever uneasiness or nervousness carved into Hermione's face was completely drowned by Draco's sincere expression and tone of voice.

Hermione couldn't even help but stare at him in wondrous amazement as he dramatically told his tale, even making Madam Pomfrey herself nod in sympathy at the unfortunate thing that happened.

He just sounded and looked so… so honest.

Like everything really did happen without a doubt.

Hermione had always commended him for being scheming and manipulative, but she was just astounded to no end on how a good actor he really could be too.

There was just something in his tone of voice or the way he could control his eye movements that no one could really see or know if he was stating a lie or not. It was even as if he was trained to lie and was already an expert in this field.

Hermione didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing. Though, she certainly couldn't complain about that now.

She was very guilty of the lies that they needed to tell but she knew that if anyone would know that they had gone out of Hogwarts without any permission and also in the time way beyond curfew, she was just so sure that the only punishment they could ever get was expulsion itself.

And she damn well knew she was going to be brutally murdered by her own mother if that would happen; and no, she wasn't exaggerating .

She had even _almost_ stood up from her bed to give a round of applause and standing ovation to Draco when Madam Pomfrey had sympathetically informed them that she would just be giving them a warning this time and had decided on not reporting them to their heads anymore. She said that they'd been under a lot of stress already and she didn't want to add at it any longer as it was quite detrimental for their physical condition especially that of Ginny Weasley, who was then currently resting peacefully on her hospital bed.

Draco had pleaded Madam Pomfrey to let him stay with the girls for the night as well.

And quite surprisingly _or_ unsurprisingly, she had let him too.

The infirmary keeper had announced that it was indeed better if he would stay since Hermione was still a bit trembling and had appeared shaken by the recent trauma despite of the calming potion that she had taken.

Little did she know that Hermione was shaking not from her physical state, but from the deceitfulness they did to the older lady.

It was a good thing that Draco was just too good at it that he had even managed to get the healer's compassion and pity.

He was given his own hospital bed to stay for the night, but by the second Madam Pomfrey went out, he had swiftly got up and transferred into Hermione's.

And now, she was securely tucked in bed with him.

"Draco? Are you still mad at me?" Hermione suddenly asked him while shifting a little to look up at him from her current position on his chest.

"No. I'm not mad at you, princess. I can't be mad at you. You know that," he whispered back while kissing her hair, smelling its floral delicate scent.

How could he stay mad at her when all that he could really feel now was her supple, soft, warm body squirming against him?

She even had those warm, shining chocolate eyes looking up at him again.

Damn.

She just looked too enticing, and somehow, her innocence and sense of incorruptibility had added to the temptation.

She just didn't know just how much it affected him that for the first time, they were actually lying on the same bed.

He just hoped that the thin hospital bed sheets could cover his hard on and…

"Right. We should go to sleep now," he suddenly uttered, looking like he just had all his face muscles strained while trying to get up to go back to his bed.

"Please stay here, Draco," she insisted while scooting even closer. "I'm too scared to sleep alone now."

Draco couldn't think of anything but her soft breasts deliciously brushing his chest against their clothing.

Double damn.

"I really didn't want to secretly sneak out like that, you know," she suddenly spoke softly. "I was just… well, I was just a bit mad at you. But then again, I realized I really didn't have the grounds to get mad at you. I mean… anything that you ever had with them are over now and it's just a part of your past, right?" She added, looking really guilty and sincerely troubled for what she had done.

"I know that, okay? I told you I'm not angry anymore, Hermione," he sighed as he gently kissed her nose, intending to kiss her lips at first before realizing that it would be a very bad move. He knew he only had too little self control now that they even had to sleep in one bed.

"Still, I'm sorry for doing it," she muttered, yawning a bit and scooting even nearer as possible into his embrace.

Honestly, she needed to stop wriggling too much before he would finally lost it.

He was even sure that the wild thrumming of his heart was jumping through his shirt now.

"I told you it's okay, princess. Now, go to sleep. I don't want to hear you saying sorry again just because of that, okay?"

"Okay," she yawned again as her eyelids slowly fluttered while Draco cradled her warm, petite, soft form and rubbed her waist gently.

Damn, if only he could roam his hands a little bit higher, or lower…

"Draco?" Hermione suddenly whispered again, making him almost jump from all the dirty thoughts currently living in his hormonal system.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you'll stay with me," she murmured softly, her eyes closed now.

"I promise," he smiled while kissing her head. He'd do anything to have that delicious scent forever.

"Pinky swear?" She whispered faintly, in the brink of getting lost inside dreamland.

"Pinky swear," he smiled while interlocking their small fingers together and kissing them in the process.

Merlin, she was too gorgeous.

So dainty… so soft… so innocent… so Hermione.

_His_ Hermione.

He'd give up anything in this world to protect and keep this girl from any hurt possible.

No one ever saw him like she did.

She was the very first to actually saw him as Draco, just _Draco_.

She was the very first to heal him, not just because she needed to, but because she really cared.

She was his first real friend, his first kiss, his best friend, his dream girl… his princess.

Ever since he was very young, he always had this strange inclination of protecting her, making sure she was okay no matter what and even hating those people who wanted to do the same, especially that strange brother of hers.

It wasn't that he didn't want them to protect her.

It was just the fact that it was _his_ job to do so.

And no one else could claim it, of course.

She's _his_ Hermione.

She's his no matter what.

No one could _ever_ hurt her again.

Anyone who had ever tried to or would ever try would seriously suffer from his wrath.

No.

If those bitches ever thought that they could do that thing to his girl and get away with it that easily, then they should clearly think twice.

If he was one of them, he would even consider going out of Hogwarts now before the sun ever rises.

Hell, even a random stranger couldn't get away by just accidentally bumping her shoulder.

_No one_ could ever get away from hurting Malfoy's girl.

To deny that was clearly idiotic.

"They've obviously messed with the wrong person, love. By tomorrow, none of them can thank the day that they were even born…"

* * *

**A/N**

**Song for this chapter: "The Way You Look At Me" by Christian Bautista. Besides the fact that I'm in love with its lyrics, it also has this gentle, slow, melancholic and romantic tune in it that fits perfectly in a guy being so, so in love with his girl. :)**

**Thanks for the reviews guys! May you all have a good day! God bless :)**

**Love,**

**Sue**


	17. I Protect What's Mine

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

"**I Protect What's Mine"**

"I still don't understand why you want that cat. I thought you wanted an owl. I already sent a letter to my subjects to buy you one at Diagon Alley, you know," Draco sighed to his girlfriend, his hand at the small of her back while they strode towards the _Three Broomsticks Inn_ for butterbeers after a long day of shopping.

"I didn't ask you to buy Crookshanks for me. I told you I can pay for him," Hermione shrugged while happily holding her newly purchased half-kneazle cat closer into her embrace.

"You know I won't allow you buying things on your own when you're with me. And it's not about that, Hermione. It's about the fact that the cat looks awfully weird. Look, it has a fat squashed head as if he had run headlong into a brick wall," Draco frowned while gingerly studying the haughty looking cat who seemed to have been enjoying snuggling into Hermione's chest and making him jealous at the process. He made a gesture on poking it, but decided it would be safer just to stare.

"I know, right? Isn't he cute?" Hermione chuckled, really amused and pleased with her new pet. "And besides, the owner said that nobody wanted him. He'd been at Magical Menagerie of Diagon Alley for years now; the poor thing. It's a good thing his owner decided to bring him around here in Hogsmeade too," she continued while gently smoothing the bandy-legged, ginger-coloured cat. Its bottlebrush tail uncurling as it purred into her gentle caresses.

Draco had the sudden urge of learning the act of animagus transformation.

Hermione was too taken with the cat and she didn't notice that sudden small hint of a rare smile coming from him while he stared at her.

It was a very uncharacteristic, un-Malfoy-like smile; yet, he just couldn't stop it whenever he was with her.

These were just one of those times in which the world reminded him of its evenhandedness, somehow.

He wasn't exactly a good person.

In fact, he was just pretty sure he was born to be evil.

Yet, here he was, with the kindest girl in the world.

And… what? It was contagious?

She was just too compassionate to everyone. She could embrace even the slightest positive value of a person no matter how ugly or how evil he could get. She loved to always help others, to fight for what she thinks is right, to be patient, to listen, to be as considerate as possible even when things could be a tad too difficult to handle.

When she was around, it seemed like people could lighten up and smile. Hell, even _he_ could _smile_.

She was this little ray of sunshine in contrast to his dark disposition.

And she was _his_.

It made him almost guilty and somewhat ashamed of himself.

Almost, of course.

"Are you ready to have your surprise after this?" He asked her as they entered the warm, smoky pub.

"Of course I do," she replied excitedly at him. "But I want some butterbeers first," she added, making him chuckle fondly before kissing her temple and holding her closer to him.

Oh, how he loved this girl.

He wasn't going to stop pampering her and giving her everything even when he becomes the poorest of poor, well, not that it was even possible.

He was just in such high spirits today.

He was excited to show Hermione the surprise he had prepared for her that morning.

He wasn't really sure of what her reaction would be, so he decided to pamper her a bit for now before the surprise. Well, he'd been spoiling and pampering her all the time. But now, he had bought her extra clothes, accessories, books and more than the usual, to the point that she even needed to plead him to stop. This chubby cub, well, cat, was the very last that they had purchased. Hermione wouldn't accept anything from him after it, seeing that he even needed to pay for extra services for their things to be delivered at Hogwarts since none of them could carry them anymore.

His good mood was only ruined when someone had accidentally bumped his shoulder while they went through the pub's door.

Worse, it had to be Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Draco's _hufflepuff_ classmate, who happened to be a _muggleborn_.

"Shit! Watch it, Fletchley! Get your filthy _mudblood_ germs off me!" He looked utterly enraged and seriously disgusted. It was even as if he was going to be sick just by the mere touch of their robes.

"You're an arse, Malfoy!" Justin shouted back at him before walking out without a glance, evidently incensed for his derogatory term on him, but also seemingly immune of his nasty tongue as he chose to ignore him rather than to gripe back further.

"It was an accident. And you don't have to do that," Hermione scolded by the time Justin was completely gone.

"Urgh, serves the wanker right. Mudbloods. Disgusting creatures," he muttered while dusting some invisible 'filth' on his sleeves. "I can't even stand the sight of them, let alone _touch_ them," he cringed.

"What makes them so different?" Hermione asked him softly, looking hurt, though she honestly didn't know why.

"What makes them different?" Draco snorted, not noticing Hermione's sudden defensiveness about this. "Mudbloods are abominations. They're _filthy_."

"What makes them filthy, then?" She challenged, staring at his suddenly confused reaction and furrowed eyebrows.

"Their blood," he replied, now frowning at her. "Hermione, are we going to fight about this useless topic, again?"

"What makes you think their blood is dirty? They're humans too. We all have the same blood," she told him, ignoring his last question.

"Well, they just are. It's a common knowledge," he shrugged as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

"So then you _insult_ him for something you can't even prove? Common knowledge?" Hermione mockingly laughed, shaking her head scornfully on how ridiculous people could really get. "For _years_, our race tried to degrade them, but did we really prove anything? Can you imagine how childish these all really are?"

"They're descended from _squibs_, Hermione; _squibs_ who married _muggles_, finally forgetting our world until some stupid magical gene resurface after many generations. How can they even get more _inferior_ to that? They're the most substandard race there ever is," Draco explained, trying to let her see his point.

"There are a lot of squibs coming from pureblood families, Draco. And some muggleborns happen to really excel in magic," Hermione reasoned out.

"Yeah? Who?" Draco asked her in a taxing voice.

"Harry's mother," she replied simply. "Harry said Dumbledore told him that she—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" That was it. Any trace of good mood was wholly gone now. "How many times do I really need to tell you not to talk to that _Potter_ and _any _of his friends?" Draco berated her a little too loudly that the occupants inside the pub had started on staring at them incredulously.

There was a long pause, with Hermione's breathing a little too constricted as she glared back at him, almost squashing Crookshanks in the process.

"Hermione, I—" Draco started to speak but was unable to finish his sentence when she had all of a sudden stormed out of the pub.

He cursed under his breath before harshly opening the door to chase her, ignoring all the perky whispers of the customers.

"Hermione! Hey!" He called out, a little out of breath as he grabbed her arm gently.

"What?" She uttered exasperatingly as she turned around to face him, Crookshanks almost losing his head from too much bouncing.

"Look, I was just trying to say my point. And you know I don't want you talking to Potter," he told her earnestly, rubbing the back of his neck at the process. He really didn't fancy having a fight with her now. He was supposed to please her today. After the incident that had happened, he had promised himself to at least make her smile. And now, she was angry again.

"You can't tell me what to do or not do," she replied with a defiant look, as if daring him to oppose her.

"I know that too," he just nodded.

She just kept quiet and patted Crookshanks instead.

"Hey..." He whispered gently while walking nearer to her. "Look at me."

"No."

"Look at me."

"You're in your gentle tone again. I don't like it," she shook her head as she looked down, knowing exactly that everything would be forgotten again once she would look back into those beautiful evocative grey eyes of his. "You didn't even say you're sorry," she muttered.

"Alright, then I'm sorry," he smirked as he lifted her chin gently with his finger to make her look at him, knowing exactly what was going on inside her mind.

"You don't even mean it," she told him softly, now finally being caught inside those regal orbs again as she had no choice but to stare at them. It was just too unfair on just how much he could control her.

"I know," he replied simply, bending down to tentatively brush his lips to hers before kissing her fully… deeply. It almost made her hum in the pulsating feeling it gave her.

Oh, he was just too good at this.

"See? I'm forgiven now," he spoke by the time she had opened her fluttered eyes. She blushed when she realized he was actually grinning at her smugly now, knowing that whatever battle they had was done and he just won it just for a single kiss, _again_. How could she be so weak?

"You're such an arse," she told him frustratingly.

"Language, princess. If I'm using some offensive words on a daily basis, it doesn't mean I allow you to do so as well. You're not allowed to be evil. I'm the evil one in this team," he smirked.

She was supposed to be angry, but now she couldn't help but just smile back when he said that 'team' part. Sap.

"I hate you," she glared at him, biting her lower lip to stop herself from grinning fully.

"I love you too. Now, can we get on and finish the butterbeers? You still have a waiting surprise back at Hogwarts," he smiled at her before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, ushering her to come back with him.

She couldn't help but to stare at him and shake her head as he led her back to the pub.

How could this guy be such an insufferable git to others, almost to the point of making them loathe him and be the center of their interminable odium, but could be the sweetest to her as well?

She supposed she would never understand.

Especially that she loved him too much.

* * *

"Is this really necessary? Where are you taking me?" Hermione whined while walking slowly and warily even if Draco was there to guide her. He had asked her to leave Crookshanks into the Beauxbaton's carriage first before going to his surprise for her. He had then insisted on placing her on a blindfold for the 'big surprise' inside the Hogwarts castle. She didn't like being unable to see anything and be reliant to anyone for that matter. It scared her, somehow.

"Well, this isn't really necessary. I just want to render your eyesight unavailable for a while so I can guide you in walking and so I can touch your curves in the process," he grinned into her ear, causing little tingles along her nape and back when he tried to inch his hand on her waist a little bit higher.

"Pervert," she mumbled while slapping his hands and nudging him before he could touch her chest.

He chuckled, kissed her neck and just tightened his hold around her waist as his reply.

"Here we are," he finally whispered as they stopped. "Easy," he said softly while guiding her to walk further. He sounded a little bit more serious somehow. This disturbed her.

"Okay," she nodded while placing her hands forward to feel a door being opened for her. She frowned once she was inside as she was now hearing some muffled cries. When she heard the door banging close, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous even when Draco was holding her.

"Here you go," he announced while gently taking her blindfold off.

What she saw horrified her to no end.

She was even sure that she had forgotten how to breathe for a while as she stared, horrorstruck, at Pansy, Tracey and Daphne who were tied up into individual chairs. Blaise Zabini and another three guys she didn't know were standing behind them, looking like bodyguards. Their cries were stifled by the fabrics being nastily stuffed inside their mouths. They were blindfolded but Hermione could still see the tears staining the cloths being tied around their heads.

"What have you done?" Hermione screamed at Draco. She was too appalled to think straight that she had even slapped him on the face. This gesture, however, had only made him steal her wand and hold her tighter while his friends laughed, quite amused of the little stunt that happened.

"Your doll's a little feisty, Malfoy. And come to think of it, she's the first to actually slap you without having death as a consequence," one of the guys snickered.

"Shut up, Nott. Did you obtain the thing that I asked you to get?" Draco asked the guys while struggling to keep Hermione in place as she was hysterically trying to get away from him. There was no gentleness in his tone now. It was very firm and business like, almost as if he had intended it to gain dominance from his friends.

"Draco! Please! Stop this!" Hermione pleaded but he didn't seem to listen. He just kissed her hair and squeezed her closer to him. Her head was pressed tightly on his chest as he continued to talk to the guys in the room.

"Of course we did," a chubby looking guy with a thick neck and gorilla-like arms told Draco.

"Good," Draco smirked evilly at them. "Then we can start our little entertainment."

Upon hearing this, the girls started screeching louder. Their muffled cries sounded like squished birds.

"Shut it!" One of the brawny looking guys shouted at them, making them whimper in fear.

"Aw, Malfoy. You haven't even introduced us to your lady love. We can't start the party if we don't know each other," Nott told Draco, winking at Hermione in the process.

"Drop it, Nott. She doesn't want to be acquainted with you," Draco frowned while holding Hermione even tighter.

"Hello there, lassie. I'm Theodore Nott by the way. Been watching you for quite some time now, but my, you look even more amazing close up," he grinned at her, completely ignoring Draco's deep scowl.

Hermione just sobbed and buried her face on Draco's chest like that of a scared child, still pleading him to stop everything.

How could they be so calm and collected in all these?

And did they all do this for her?

She suddenly had the urge to throw up. Her stomach was in knots, she couldn't help but hold unto Draco for support, even if he was the mastermind of it all at the first place.

"She's scared of you, Nott. Better stick with non-foreigners from now on," one of the guys sniggered.

"Shut up, Crabbe. Don't compare me to you and your _boyfriend_ Goyle. And besides, I like my ladies being scared of me," Nott smirked as his malicious eyes roamed around Hermione's evident curves through her thin Beauxbatons uniform. "Sweet Merlin, she's so fit. A bit of a dish there, eh Malfoy?"

Draco didn't say a thing but just glared and pointed his wand at him.

"Geez! No need to get all cynical. I'm just trying to enjoy a good view," Nott grimaced as he raised his hands up in surrender, knowing too well what could result of in taxing Draco's infamous temper. "Try to talk to your gutted friend here, Zabini. He's getting all too serious in this party," he added as he turned towards the olive-skinned guy beside him.

Blaise just shrugged and crossed his arms, looking a bit strained and conflicted.

Hermione noticed that he wasn't in his usual playful self and he kept on looking sideways at the crying girls, or rather at Daphne.

She suddenly remembered that they were kind of an item.

How could he do this to her? How could he agree on Draco even if he knew it would hurt the girl that he obviously fancied?

She knew that these girls had been very mean to her, but she didn't want them to get hurt just because Draco wanted to avenge her. She wasn't that kind of a person.

These Slytherins were seriously scary, inexplicable and twisted creatures.

She just really wanted to get out of here.

"Draco, stop this now, please! Let them go!" She begged him again, hoping that he would at least listen to her.

"No," he replied gently, though there was great finality in his voice.

"You can't do this! You can't just—"

"And what? Huh? I can't do this while they can just throw you away at an empty shack in the middle of the night?"

"But Draco—"

"Prepare to open Pansy's blindfold. She's first," he commanded the guys in a domineering voice, cutting Hermione's protests.

"W-What are you going to do with her?" Hermione stammered, hearing Pansy's muffled pained cry.

"Why don't you ask her what she's really scared of, then? Or maybe we can just watch her transformed boggart," Draco smirked evilly at Hermione while leaning towards her ear so the girls couldn't hear. He had planned on making the girls believe that the fears that they would see in the shape-shifting creature was real, just to make matters worse for them and interesting for him.

"W-What? Isn't it illegal when not supervised by—"

"You're allowed to when you're not caught," Draco just winked at her.

"Draco, please… This is just too much," Hermione pleaded, but Draco just clicked his tongue and ignored her. He motioned to the guys to open the wardrobe in front of them. Crabbe and Goyle stood beside the creepy looking antique wardrobe, preparing to open it while Nott roughly pushed Pansy's chair in front of it. Finally Blaise hastily untied her blindfold at the same time his classmates opened the wardrobe to let the boggart out.

Pansy's eyes were already red and puffy from crying but it couldn't compare to the loud shriek she had drawn out in the room by the time she saw what was in front of her.

A banshee dressed in long grey clothing stood in front of her. She had a floor length black hair and a silver comb on hand. Her emaciated green tinged face screamed terror, but it could never weigh against her high-pitched supersonic scream.

Pansy was screaming and wailing, almost toppling over the chair that she was tied in. Daphne and Tracey were still blindfolded but have started screaming and crying as well, not knowing what was happening to their friend. Perhaps, they thought she was being tortured and they were going to be next .

Hermione could swear her ears were about to bleed due to too much shouting in the room as the girls seemed to compete with the banshee's endless shrieking.

She couldn't really see that much since Draco was holding her into his chest too tightly so she wouldn't be able to witness the creature. He had then pressed both his hands on her ears, covering them to protect her from the painful screams.

She tried to struggle to pull away and plead him to stop; yet, she couldn't really compete with his strength.

It scared her to no end while feeling the rumbling of his chest. He was laughing and enjoying everything.

After what felt like an eternity, Draco finally pointed his wand to the creature and uttered the Boggart-Banishing Spell, _Riddikulus_. The creature lost her voice before finally vanishing away.

Hermione was still imprisoned on Draco's unyielding hold and she needed to twist her body a bit to see what was going on.

Pansy was still sobbing, but now she was on the floor. She was still tied up around her chair and it appeared that she had tumbled down with it due to too much struggle. Her usual smug and elegant face was now covered with sweat and tears, with her mascara nastily smothered under her eyes. Yet, what caught Hermione off guard was the pure terror in her expression. She was scared to death; there was no any other reaction in her face but pure fear itself.

She looked around and none of the guys even showed mercy at all. In fact, they looked quite amused as they laughed at her; almost as if everything was pure entertainment.

"Well, that was fun," Nott sadistically laughed as he arranged the chair, taking the whimpering Pansy with it. "Good grief, that was loud. Good thing we warded the whole room with the silencing charm. I still can't believe Parkinson is scared of banshees, I mean, last time I check she actually sounds like one," he added, making the guys laugh raucously from the comparison.

"You guys have to stop this now!" Hermione yelled at them before shifting to face Draco again, who was also laughing while firmly gripping her waist. "Draco, _please_! They've suffered enough. Please… stop this, Draco." She pleaded while desperately holding unto his ruffled shirt.

Draco looked at her for a while, frowning at her devastated feature.

Hermione thought that he was finally going to stop everything, but he just gently wiped the tears that were falling incessantly on her cheeks and kissed her softly before turning towards his friends to demand his next order.

He then started motioning for Goyle to bring Daphne's chair in front of the wardrobe next.

"Why won't you listen to me? Please, Draco!" Hermione cried as she started on desperately pounding his chest now.

"You know I will never stop this, Hermione. I'm just teaching them a lesson. Now, be a good girl and just enjoy the show," he told her by firmly holding both her hands in place to keep her from punching him.

"Wait."

Both looked around and saw Blaise with his lips pursed, Hermione thought he had never looked more troubled than he was now.

"Can we skip Daphne for a while? We can go for Tracey first," he finally said.

"What? Going soft on your _girlfriend _now?" Draco snorted at him.

"She's not my girlfriend," Blaise replied, looking unaffected. "It would just be nice to see her in the finale."

Hermione had to literally keep her mouth from involuntarily opening when she heard Blaise' cruel words. How could he do this? Why wouldn't he fight for her?

"Interesting," Draco chuckled. "Alright, then. That's not a problem."

Blaise nodded and had abruptly brought Tracey's chair in the middle instead of Daphne's. The poor girl screeched in terror, having grasped the unfairness of it all.

"This will be exciting." Nott rubbed his hands together as he stared at the whimpering girl.

Hermione could never think of a more vicious group of people than these Slytherins.

What they saw, however, had surprised them. Since instead of a bloodcurdling creature, the boggart had turned into a sophisticated, classy looking woman. Her face structure and eyes said it all that she was indeed a boggart of Tracey's very own mother.

"You're a disgrace to this family, Tracey! I knew it all along! I've known that you'll only stain our family name. Look at _you_. You're dumb, ugly and useless! Even the costly cosmetics I've spent can't enhance your physical appearance. You can't even find a proper man to at least make yourself useful! You're just a bitch born in a wrong family. You _don't_ deserve to be my daughter! I'm very disappointed of you! You _disgust_ me!" The boggart screamed at her.

The occupants in the room seemed to have been stunned at what just happened.

Even Pansy had stopped crying and had stared, dumbfounded at Tracey's mother.

Daphne was still in a blindfold, but her startled expression was undeniable as well.

The guys in the room stopped laughing, apparently not knowing what to react to that sudden occurrence.

When Tracey started crying in shame, Hermione couldn't help but sob with her.

Everything seemed too familiar.

It felt like… like she was standing in front of her very own mother too.

"Riddikulus," Draco whispered vaguely while pointing his wand to the creature. It transformed into a strange looking ballerina before finally vanishing into the wardrobe.

Hermione felt lightheaded. Her knees were too unsteady to even support her.

It just hurt too much.

Because during that moment, she had felt all the possible pain that Tracey could be feeling as well.

It was like being stabbed brutally from the shadows.

She could still feel the disgusted stare of her very own mother to her, like she had just witnessed something that had already happened; like she was seeing herself in the mirror for the first time.

"Are you alright?" Draco whispered at her, knowing too well what had caused her to be troubled this way.

She just shook her head, too distraught to even utter a word.

"Wow, that was awkward," Nott frowned, unaware of the real tension that had built inside the room. "Well, maybe Daphne can spice us up a bit, then."

"No," Draco suddenly said. "I think that's enough for now."

Hermione thought she heard Blaise heave out a heavy sigh, but she wasn't really sure as she couldn't even comprehend if the beating of her heart was still normal or if the oxygen she was taking could still reach the final branchings of her respiratory tree.

"What? Well that's fucked up. What about Greengrass' boggart, Malfoy?" Goyle whined.

"He already said that it's enough, Goyle. Are you that thick? Show's over," Blaise griped back while walking nearer to the crying Daphne to gently untie her blindfold.

"You're just trying to save your bitch of a girlfriend so you can still have a good fuck later," Crabbe snorted at him.

"Shut up. At least I do get to have a good fuck with a girl," Blaise spat back.

In a quarter of a second, Crabbe was suddenly diving towards the latter, sending a huge punch on his left eye.

The girls started screaming again, still trying to get away from the chairs that they were tied in.

Theodore Nott tried to get Blaise away from Crabbe while Goyle did the same to the other, but neither of them would give up and started on nastily kicking some invisible villains in the air instead.

"STOP IT!"

All stopped whatever they were doing as they turned towards the raging Draco Malfoy. He looked awfully worried of the girl on his arms, but his expression could still scream murder to anyone who would dare cross his path.

"When I say it's enough, then, it's _enough_," he announced firmly. "Now, you better _listen_, before I fully lost my temper."

He turned his head towards the girls who were still quivering in fear as they looked back at him with huge terrified tearstained eyes.

"I trust you've learned your lesson. Hermione is under _my_ protection. You _touch_ her again, you _die_. Do you understand me?"

The girls sobbed and nodded frantically at him.

"Let's be clear about one thing here. I will _not_ tolerate anyone who will even _dare_ to harm _my_ girlfriend. Let's not forget about this tiny detail that among our parents' circle, my parents happen to be favoured well by the dark lord. Risen or not, or if I even believe in that shit, _I_ was trained not only to defend myself but to attack as well. You don't know the things that I am capable of doing and I'll gladly give a demonstration for your sake, if you want to. My experience is not as young as I look. _I_ protect what's _mine_. I'm a selfish person and a selfish person _never_ settles in tolerating anything that is unforgivable. Did you get all that?" He asked again as he stared coldly at them. His eyes were lethal, like that of a frozen deadly ocean.

The girls whimpered and nodded again, knowing too well not to say a word and make things worse.

It was amazing just how meek and frightened they all look now. It was even too impossible to comprehend that they'd been such mean wenches before, bullying others and putting down everyone they considered as inferior to them.

Now, they just looked too submissive, like poor innocent victims who had never done any wrong to deserve anything that had come to them.

Except that they did.

"You've messed with the wrong person. You deserve the things that happened today," Draco spoke for the last time as he picked the shaking girl beside him and carried her out of the room with not a single glance back; his robe billowing harshly before the door finally shut with a loud thump, a trick he seemed to learn from his godfather.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Yeah, that's right. Never mess with a Malfoy. lol**

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. May I have some more? Thank you! God bless!**

**Love, **

**Sue**

* * *

**Little info:**

**Boggart- It is a shape-shifting creature that takes on the form of the viewer's worst fear. No one really knows its real form. **

**Justin ****Finch-Fletchley- A hufflepuff muggleborn student. He was in the same year as Harry. He came from a posh, upperclass muggle family. He was a member of the Dumbledore's army.**

**Theodore Nott- A Slytherin pureblood student. Classmate of Draco Malfoy. He was raised by his father, who was a death-eater.**

**Vincent Crabbe- A Slytherin pureblood student. He was a member of the Inquisitorial club. Son of a death-eater**

**Gregory Goyle- A Slytherin pureblood student. He was a member of the Inquisitorial club. Son of a death-eater.**


	18. Porcelain Doll

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Eighteen**

"**Porcelain Doll"**

* * *

**Pucey Family Manor, England**

**Summer**

**1996**

The sound of the grandfather clock was swirling inside Hermione's eardrums as she languidly looked around her childhood room. The crafty interiors, gilded stucco and each sophisticated bent of the furniture were as luxurious as ever.

Nothing really changed much since the last time she'd been here.

Even the fragrance of essential jasmine oils was present as if her little naughty self was still there, spilling all the fragrances all over the room just because she liked smelling them.

It was one of her greatest comforts against all the ludicrous things demanded to her young mind.

Hermione took a weighty breath as she stared at the beautiful woman in front of her vanity.

She was flawless; a beauty refined by time and its continual labour for perfection.

But she knew it wasn't good enough.

It always wasn't enough.

_I don't want you humiliating our name to the Malfoys. You know that this summer is going be very important, Hermione. This is going to be the turning point of your life in the next two years. _

_You, being with Draco Malfoy, still don't secure anything; unless he asks you to get engaged with him and secure you the spot of being his bride after you graduate. _

_Sit up straight, Hermione. You're slouching again._

_How many times do I need to tell you not to wear that kind of shade? It doesn't suit your skin colour._

_Goodness, you're becoming too skinny, Hermione. Didn't I tell you to eat properly? A man doesn't want his lady to be skin and bones._

_You've gained some weight. Try to check on your diet. _

_Go change. I don't like your gown tonight._

_Oh, how unbefitting! What would they say about you when you act like that? You're a lady now, stop acting like a child. _

_Try to behave and don't embarrass me tonight._

_It's not good enough, Hermione!_

_What are you doing? This is inexcusable._

_When can you ever do something right?_

_You're such a disappointment!_

She closed her eyes for a while and evened her breathing, inhaling the smell of the fresh scented oils that soothed her senses. Trying so hard to erase the needless comments of her mother, she concentrated on the beautiful girl in front of the mirror instead.

She was undeniably stunning at sixteen.

Her hair was longer than before and it was kept into a beautiful updo, accented with some tendrils cascading along her jaw line.

She watched as Nanny Demelza placed the bobby pins and hairpins carefully in place, perfecting her masterpiece.

It calmed her somehow.

Watching the very person who had served as her mother for all her life was a safe dwelling place for her.

Her very own mother didn't really want to be near her in some ways she couldn't really fathom. So it was always up to Nanny Demelza to fill up that one empty space.

When she was transferred to live in France for her schooling, she had been devastated. She had cried for days, pleading her father to let her study at Hogwarts instead, telling him that she was very scared to be too far away from home.

Her mother didn't care and had decided to go out for shopping that day; probably very annoyed of her 'whining' as she would call it.

Adrian even offered to go to Beauxbatons as well, just to be with her since he knew that his little sister was just too scared.

But they couldn't really do anything no matter how much they would plead.

Their lives were already sketched out for them before they were even born.

It was a cruel reality, and they needed to accept it. It wasn't as if they were even given any options, anyway.

It was when Nanny Demelza had asked her father to let her come with Hermione to France that she was given any hope. She was very surprised of how her Nanny stood up for her. Usually, she wouldn't really dare talk or give any opinion to her masters.

It was in that very moment that she realized she was never really alone.

Someone really loved her that much that she was willing to give the big gesture of standing up to her master just for her.

Someone really loved her.

She was _capable_ of being loved.

And it warmed her heart. She had run straight towards the older lady, embraced her and had desperately cried into her arms.

She loved her so much, no matter how much her mother would ask her not to be too close with the older lady as she was still an inferior to them.

Nanny Demelza had once told her that she was a squib. She came from a high pureblood family and was disowned and forsaken by her own father by the time they had found out her abnormality. Nanny Demelza's mother didn't want her to be alone in the muggle world and so she was given as a gift to a family friend, who was then Ansleigh Pucey's mother. She had served the Pucey family ever since she was eleven, failing to go to a wizarding boarding school because of her state. The Pucey family had never been cruel to her; they were even kind enough to at least let her study with the enormous books inside their library.

The Pucey Manor Main Library had been her haven since then; her home, as she would often tell Hermione.

It was her safe refuge.

She said that a 'home' was something that could make a person feel very safe and protected. It was something that could make one genuinely happy and secured at the same time. She had once said that Hermione was also her home. She loved her like that.

She was very special to Hermione, which was perhaps the main reason why the girl had been very defensive of the group of so-called 'inferiors' in this world. Because it was only from the 'inferiors' that she had really learned to be loved that much.

As an ancient pureblood family, the Pucey family had their own house elves, so Nanny Demelza wasn't really treated as a slave. She was never allowed to go to the kitchens, even. She was often serving at the dining room, being asked to stand there whenever they needed anything. She was always there when visitors would also come and visit, helping them with their needs.

The guests seemed to see it as quite a refined approach to have a well-dressed maid serving them instead of the usual shabby house elves.

Lady Petrova had even considered her as a rare asset of the Pucey family. She had found it quite impressive that the family had their own private maid besides of their natural dwelling house elves. Rumours said that she had married Ansleigh Pucey because of that little element.

Since Demelza only had very few household tasks in the manor, she had spent her time inside the family's grand library. She was very fond of poetry and whimsical stories. She had fed her frustrated heart with all of those that contained happy fairytale endings, because she had known that she would never have one.

It was when Hermione had been entrusted to her that she had actually lived again. She had no one to love and so she had focused all her attention and adoration to the little angel.

Lady Petrova approved of it. She had even seen it quite fit to let Nanny Demelza take care of her only daughter rather than the house elves, knowing that the maid was very well versed with books and was fairly mannered and intelligent as well.

She said that it was essential for her daughter to learn the acts of being a proper lady with appropriate manners and likes. Nanny Demelza had luckily passed that requirement.

Lady Petrova had hired special tutors for her children before they were of age to go to a wizarding boarding school, but had let the maid take care of them as well.

Whenever the tutors were gone, she would ask Nanny Demelza to review some things with Hermione, asking her to perfect everything so the girl wouldn't shame her the following day when another lesson would be taught.

Nanny Demelza didn't think it was necessary, however. She had often thought that Hermione was an exceptional child. She was very sharp for her age. But for some reason, it was only Adrian who had always garnered any praise from their mother. Nanny Demelza had known the reason of course, though her mouth was sealed in that side of the topic.

Ansleigh Pucey was a different story, nonetheless. He was very fond of Hermione. Nanny Demelza could even swear that he could somehow be her real father if not for the tiny detail that the little angel didn't really come from their world.

He had even allowed her to go with Hermione at her new home despite of Lady Petrova's insistence to let the older lady stay in the family manor.

Going into her new home at France was very difficult for little Hermione. Nanny Demelza was the only one who had kept her sane throughout it all.

Aunt Genevieve wasn't cruel or anything like that; yet, she was as strict and as authoritarian as her sister, Petrova. From the moment Hermione had stepped inside her manor house, the older lady had looked her up and down like some newly purchased cattle, mumbling all the flaws she had seen and on how she should improve them.

Aunt Genevieve hated little Hermione's slumping posture the most. She said it made her look like she was carrying an evil ghost on her back. Hermione was so terrified that she found herself having scary nightmares after that. If not for Nanny Demelza, she was sure she had really run away from there.

Right now, however, she just wanted to go back to France rather than stay here and be the center of scrutiny once she'd go out of her room.

But then again, she had done this all her life.

She was always the center of reservations. Too much pressure was given to her. Growing up, she was trained to be like this; like some fragile porcelain doll perfectly crafted, never to be touched, never to be reached out or else her dress could be frayed or her skin could be blemished and tainted.

Be beautiful or be thrown away and banished. That was the only choice.

There was just no room for imperfection.

"I'm kind of nervous, Nanny," Hermione uttered softly as she stared at the older lady in the mirror who was still currently fixing her hair. It always took an ample amount of time to perfect it.

"Why would you be, dear? You look gorgeous," Nanny Demelza smiled at her through their reflection before continuing her work as if she wasn't just interrupted.

"Well, what if they won't like me?" She asked her Nanny worriedly.

"Well, they don't have any other choice now, do they? Their son is madly in love with you. They can't do anything about it. They _need_ to like you; although I'm sure that it's really impossible not to." The older lady smiled at her as she stopped and gently lifted the girl's chin to let her see her reflection in the mirror. "You are a very beautiful girl, Hermione. You should stop putting yourself down, you know."

"It's funny how Draco would always tell me about that too," Hermione smiled. "He said I don't credit myself enough."

"Ah, but of course. The Young Master knows what he's saying. I love how you always light up when talking about that precious boy," Nanny Demelza smiled fondly at her.

Hermione just blushed and looked down at the exquisite parquet flooring, smoothing her dress in the process. She was wearing a bare-shouldered gown. It had a crisp, smooth woven fabric made of silk, embellished with laces, appliqués and beadings with pearl-button fastenings.

It was white, of course.

She had specifically asked Nanny Demelza to deliver her a white dress.

Draco said she always looked good in white.

"You two are made for each other, my dear. If anyone can tell you that, I sure can," Nanny Demelza smirked impishly at her, making her cheeks elicit a pinkish crimson shade.

Draco and she had been together for two years already. Saying goodbye to him when she needed to come back for Beauxbatons was one of the most heartbreaking moments of her life.

It hurt too much that she even needed to clutch on her chest and remember to breathe as their school's carriage took off into the sky, her hurtful relentless hiccups snatching every opportunity to do so.

Draco had always been the stronger one in their relationship and she loved him like that. He had found a lot of ways just to be with her. They would write letters to each other almost every day, sometimes even more than that. He had never failed to take every opportunity just to be with her. There were even some weekends in which he had traveled for France just to see her. He had spent every holiday, whether summer or Christmas with her.

Aunt Genevieve was very strict to the both of them, stating how very improper it was for them to sleep under one roof even if it was merely a vacation or so. Lady Petrova, however, was very fond of the news, even getting Hermione's side and ignoring her sister's aggravation towards the matter.

Nanny Demelza had often thought it was very romantic. She had become very fond of the Young Master Draco through the years. The boy could be a tad pompous and self-absorbed at times, but he loved Hermione so greatly, and with that, she was very content.

Hermione was her little angel and she deserved to be loved by the boy that she loved back and adored as fiercely.

The only problem that Nanny Demelza had with Hermione and Draco was their almost obsessive adoration for each other. She had known Hermione to be a very smart and responsible girl, but sometimes, she couldn't help but worry on how her mind could be overruled by her emotions.

Once, she had caught the both of them inside Hermione's room when she tried to check on her as she would sometimes do. It seemed that Draco had snuck in to be with her. It alarmed her that the two were sprawled on the bed, kissing fervently and were even almost half-dressed.

She was so distressed by the matter that she had screamed at them for the erroneous thing that they were doing.

Hermione cried in shame that night and pleaded her to listen to her justification. She explained that nothing really happened and that the older lady had thought wrong of what they were doing. Draco clarified the matter and promised Nanny Demelza that Hermione's honour was intact. He swore on the older lady that he respected Hermione and that he would never ever press her on something that she wasn't ready of doing.

Nanny Demelza was still very angry and disappointed on the two of them, but she promised them that she would not say a word to Lady Genevieve if they could promise her never to do anything stupid especially that they were still very young.

The determined look on the boy's feature while he gave his word had somehow calmed the older lady. It was the reason why she had kept that night as a secret to Lady Genevieve. Merlin knew what her stern mistress would do to Hermione when she would find out that a half naked boy was on the young girl's bed in the middle of the night.

She would probably kill the girl before popping a vein or having a heart attack herself.

A small crack was suddenly heard in the room, making the two ladies look sideways to see one of the family's house elves. The little elf ineffectively smoothed his wrinkled tattered clothing before squeaking his announcement. "Young Mistress, the guests have arrived."

Hermione closed her eyes before nodding for the elf to go. She took one last look into her reflection in the mirror before getting up to walk through the opened door. It was time.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was staring at the same golden ashtray he had stared and glared at the very first time he'd been in this manor seven years ago.

Except now, he wasn't doing it because he was bored.

He wasn't.

In fact, he was feeling extremely the opposite.

He could almost see the mild jumping of his dinner suit due to his frantic heart inside his ribcage.

He had last been with Hermione during his Christmas break and it had already been months. They would always exchange letters and would communicate through floo powders, but feeling her presence and being with her personally was still so much different.

Because of his O.W.L exams, career counseling and prefect duties in the last school year, he wasn't given the permission to get out of the country on his free weekends as he usually would.

Hermione told him that she understood and that she herself was very busy as well, as she was also appointed as one of the prefects in her school.

He had tried scheming to get out of the country at every chance he could get but decided not to do it since he knew Hermione would probably just slam the door at him by the time he'd get there.

He had learned on not rebelling too much to get what he wanted.

He had actually learned it the hard way.

He could still remember the time when Hermione ignored him for weeks because of what he and his friends did to those bitches.

He had even almost lost her as a date in the Yuleball to those random & ridiculously ambitious guys.

It was a good thing that he had grown up on knowing how to handle certain… things.

Theodore Nott had to stay inside the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey's close observation after accidentally ingesting a venomous tentacula juice just right after their Potion's class, mistaking its container for his newly purchased water jug. He had writhed in pain because of the sensation of the poison burning on his insides. If not for Madam Pomfrey's constant watch, his skin could have had permanently turned into a purple hue. Too bad, he couldn't blame anybody on such an unwanted _accident_.

Ron Weasley was stupid enough to receive something from an anonymous admirer, drinking its sweet flavoured pumpkin juice gift that made his ginger hair rapidly grow in the most unsightly way. It turned out his pumpkin juice was mixed with a manegro potion. That sight was a pretty wicked one to behold especially that he was in the great hall when that happened. Ginny Weasley must be so pissed for being outstaged by his own brother in the hair department. In the end, it was dismissed as a childish prank. But still, Weasley had to also stay inside the infirmary for that, thus missing the Yuleball as well.

Viktor Krum had a sudden obsessive urge on asking Millicent Bulstrode for a date at the Yuleball just a day after he had sent flowers and an invitation to Hermione. In fact, he had kissed Millicent straight after the girl had said yes to him. Viktor Krum looked so smitten and in love that it was almost as if someone had given him a powerful love potion…

Of course, when all of it was sorted, Millicent Bulstrode was sentenced for a week of detention. It was indeed proven that Krum had ingested an Amortentia. No one could blame Millicent why she wouldn't admit her fault, anyway. No one would listen to her pleas for justification. Why would anyone do? The girl just had the best Yuleball night of her life. Of course, who would really like to get out of a certain fairytale of dating a famous Quidditch player? There was no obvious suspect but herself.

Those three dolts and all the other faceless ambitious guys who had suffered some random misfortune just days before the Yuleball had one thing in common… they all had asked Hermione for a date.

Well, everything was simple when you're not caught, after all…

Especially when you were being the most sensitive, sweetest and lovable guy in the world during these times.

Draco made the big gesture of courting Hermione again even if they really didn't officially break up. Every day, he would wait outside their carriage and join their jog even if she wouldn't talk to him and even if he really hated getting up too early in the morning.

He had even sneaked inside the Slytherin Girls' dormitory, earning a bruise on his arm when he attempted to secretly climb on the enchanted stairs just to retrieve that weird map and give it back to Hermione's little friend, the Weaslette.

He would also ask favour to some first year Gryffindors to deliver flowers for Hermione. He knew she had a soft spot for children and she had no way of rejecting any of his roses when delivered by these sweet, innocent, little _Gryffindors_. Hermione had an irrational fondness for Gryffindors. A thing he would never _ever_ understand.

She was incredibly stunning at the Yuleball. She had been so shy on walking down the marble staircase, so unaware of her majestic beauty. She just didn't know how much her obliviousness of it all had affected him so much.

If she had walked with another man holding her hand then Draco could swear he could have had really murdered someone in that instant.

But she was alone, and that made his heart flutter in contentment.

He had cornered her at the balcony that night. She was alone and he knew that it was his chance to apologize for everything.

He wasn't really sorry of course. Psh. As if that would happen.

Torturing those girls with a stolen boggart was just one of his most ingenious tricks to date. He would never be sorry for something so brilliant like that.

Yet, he knew that not looking convincingly sorry was a wrong move that time, so he had to put on his legendary and most apologetic face, just for the show.

It took a lot of convincing and pleading before he got to kiss her again this time, but his patience paid off in the end.

Hermione just couldn't understand where he was coming from. He knew those bints really deserved it and he wasn't a bit sorry for it.

In fact, if he hadn't noticed her distress on Tracey's boggart, he really wouldn't call it all off that fast. He was still enjoying too much.

But he knew that what Hermione saw in Tracey's boggart was closely related to her life as well and by then he knew it was all enough.

He really couldn't comprehend Hermione's insecurities at first.

She was beautiful. There was no question to that. But somehow, she really couldn't completely look at herself that way. She would often put herself down, if not saying it out loud then her constant actions of worrying definitely screamed it.

It was only when he had first spent a holiday with her at her Aunt Genevieve's manor house that he actually learned the reason why. That old hag was a virus.

He could swear she was programmed to spot every invisible glitch on her niece, even with her eyes closed.

There was not a day that Hermione wasn't being scolded or reprimanded. It was even as if everything she would do was wrong. Hell, even if she wouldn't do a thing, the old hag would still rebuke her to no end for a sin of omission.

He really didn't know how she had survived that place.

There was even a time when Hermione had forgotten a single word from one of the Francophone poetries she was obligated to recite every morning. Out of nowhere, Aunt Genevieve had burst out and screamed at how dumb she was because of that tiny error.

Draco had been so mad that he had stood up and threatened to hex the old lady.

If it wasn't for Hermione running into him and pleading him to stop, he really could have had done a serious damage.

Who the hell was she to even shout at her own niece like that?

He could swear her brain cells couldn't even reach one fourth of Hermione's knowledge. Draco had always been proud of his girlfriend's accomplishments and he'd always thought her to be the brightest witch of her age; to shout at her that she was dumb was just too much for him to witness.

That night, he had held her and cradled her crying form to sleep.

His strange compulsion of protectiveness of her had gotten stronger and stronger after that incident.

He had always been concerned of her safety and whereabouts, sometimes to the point of being too obsessive of it. And seeing her get punished and yelled at for something so small had even fueled that compulsion.

This was one of the reasons why he'd been quite keen of his sixteenth birthday just about four weeks ago.

When he was younger, just a few months before he had entered Hogwarts, his parents sat with him to discuss some matters he needed to understand. One of them was his responsibility as the only heir of the Malfoys. His parents had been a product of an arranged marriage and they had been particular of the fact that it was an impeccable deal and they wouldn't think twice of arranging their son to a stranger for the good of the family name as well.

However, by his mother's appeal, he was given the chance to choose for a suitable mate until he would turn sixteen to finally be engaged.

There were, of course, conditions that he needed to follow and once engaged he would have to marry the girl when he would finally turn eighteen.

The only image that had entered his very young mind that day was the shy smile of the first girl he had given a flower and a kiss in that large, beautiful and magical garden.

This spot belonged to her and _only_ her.

His dream girl…

There was no turning back now. The world could turn upside down; it could die for all he cared. This decision was the only one that he had felt very proud of. Nothing could ever take it away.

And now, he was standing bravely just beside his parents, his height as tall as his own father. He was almost a man now, and he was going to get engaged with the girl of his dreams.

It was surreal, almost like he was inside a spell.

And when she had walked down the stairs to meet him, he had realized just how much his heart could beat as deeply as it could. The last time he had seen her walking down those stairs, she was still so young, so little. She had not a care in the world as she had run towards him to spend another mischievous and exciting day with her new playmate.

Those were simpler times, but he would trade them for anything in the world just to live in this moment; slower, more quixotic one.

She was the epitome of a perfect Malfoy bride: beautiful, elegant, intelligent, skillfully gifted in magic, and from one of the oldest Pureblood families as well.

And she was _Hermione_. _His_ Hermione. He'd always known she was _his_ from the very start.

And nothing could change that. Not ever.

How could he be so lucky?

* * *

**A/N:**

**Song for this chapter: "Spell" by Marie Digby. I'm so in love with this song and I think it fits perfectly with this chapter. :)**

**I just want to thank you for all the reviews you've given and for waiting patiently for my chapters even if they're quite late sometimes. My muggle world is too busy for my fanfiction world right now. I just passed that big exam I told you about (I'm very happy about it but that also means a more hectic schedule for me now). Also, my dad is spending his vacation with us (I haven't seen him for about two years because of work). And then it's also summer here in our place, and my roguish little cousin is having his vacation here (I love him sooo much!), and also more relatives are coming since my aunt is having a summer wedding (I'm the maid of honour), so yeah, this summer is **_**sooo **_**going to be a frenzied one, haha. But I'll try **_**really**_** hard to update as often as I can. **

**I honestly love this story too much to let it go. **

**Thank you so much dears. :) God bless all!**

**Love, Sue**

* * *

**Little Info:**

**Amortentia- It is a powerful love potion that causes obsession and has a different aroma for everyone who smells it. **

**Venomous Tentacula juice – It is a poison. Though not deadly, it can still elicit a sensation of burning on the insides. It also turns the skin of the drinker into purple or a darker hue.**

**Manegro Potion- It is a potion that causes the hair on the head to grow rapidly.**

**Millicent Bulstrode- **** She was in Draco Malfoy's year. She was described as large with**** a heavy, jutting jaw.****In her ****fifth year ****she became a member of the ****Inquisitorial Squad****.**


	19. Bedtime Story

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Nineteen**

"**Bedtime Story"**

It's funny on how the interior could be perfectly concealed by your outer shell that much when you force it to.

Like a mime artist wanting to scream from a terrible soreness, for the sake of art, Hermione was smiling instead.

A mime was a seamless character in a sketch that sometimes people would forget that 'it' was human too.

But Hermione's position seemed to be even worse than that of one…

It just hurt to smile when your muscles were shaking like a broken muggle engine. It hurt to even walk when you could feel your knees wobble in uncertainty. It hurt when all you could feel was constant worrying. It hurt too much trying to be perfect when you didn't even have the certainty that being perfect was good enough.

"Oh, how she has grown so much, Petrova! She is stunning! Oh, what a beautiful girl." Narcissa was the first to speak, walking sophisticatedly into Hermione as if she was floating; clearly looking blissful to have seen the girl as she planted some air kisses into her future daughter-in-law. "The last time I saw her, she was just too small. Now look at how she'd grown to be such a fine young lady. I commend you for this, Petrova. You did an excellent job."

"Why thank you, Cissy. Of course, my daughter was raised simply by the best and in the most appealing background. I have made sure of that," Lady Petrova smiled proudly into the other woman.

Hermione couldn't help but look down to hide her little frown. She had _never_ raised her!

And why were they talking about her in a third person? She's here, in case they have forgotten.

She looked sideways and stared at Draco instead.

He was staring back at her. But they both knew they couldn't do anything as long as the adults were around.

Oh how she had missed him so much. She just wanted to run into him, throw her arms around him and make him speak softly to her those sweet nothings he had always whispered to make her feel better.

But they both knew that whatever it was they were feeling inside, they should conceal it for a while; just until the hypocrites were out of sight.

"Such a beautiful child she is," Narcissa continued gushing as she circled around Hermione as if she was a trophy or a newly purchased robe. "She has well-rounded hips too; very good for childbearing."

Hermione was terrified.

They were not just acting like they were forgetting that she was around but they were actually talking about her hips for childbearing purposes as well. Really. They didn't need to remind her of her only duty in this incarcerated world.

Though looking a bit bored, Lucius Malfoy even stared at her hips as well, perhaps trying to carefully mull over this ideal transaction for their family name to live on.

She felt harassed.

It shocked her that Draco was staring at her body as well, looking curious and slightly amused as his mother discussed about Hermione's 'gift'.

Hips. What an awkward topic.

The proposal wasn't what she had dreamt of having ever since she was young, but it was what she had expected.

Draco and she had been very serious about it since they had already known their obligations towards this matter.

Any emotional or sentimental parts were never needed in this time.

For their parents, this was nothing more but a strong indenture and an influential agreement between the two pureblood families. It was an inevitable duty needed to be performed flawlessly and in a businesslike manner.

Lady Narcissa and Lady Petrova did almost all the talking in the proposal.

If it wasn't for Draco's assuring caress on her hand when he slipped on the asscher cut diamond ring on her finger, she could have sworn everything was just really a business deal.

She was also asked to play the piano for them, before sitting with the elders again to discuss her duties as an engaged woman.

The whole afternoon until the early night was a strained one. Her cheeks even hurt for smiling forcefully the whole time. She was bombarded with questions about the history of the Malfoy clan, her understanding of her duties and even her awareness in politics. Perhaps, they were testing her knowledge and views in everything so she had reminded herself to be careful and not to engage in debating too much. Her opinions were very different from theirs.

And _different_ was a really bad thing.

It was very obvious that what they wanted for their son was a _very_ meek wife; educated enough to reach the standard of mingling with influential people but submissive enough to perform anything that she was asked to do.

She couldn't really see the essence of it. If all that they wanted was a compliant and dutiful girl for a daughter-in-law and that she couldn't work and should stay inside the manor to breed a perfectly pureblooded _son _to continue the family name, then what was the use of education? To use it as an ostentatious display was simply insulting.

This was one of those moments in which she was just very thankful that she had fallen in love their son, not because she needed to but because she really did genuinely love him.

She knew and she was very sure of the fact that her mother was just going to push her into a random rich pureblood if Draco hadn't chosen her to be his fiancée.

This was the only thing that was holding her together during the entire dinner.

She couldn't blow this off, and so she did her best to epitomize that perfect pureblood submissive girl the Malfoys wanted.

After the whole thing would be finalized, she knew that everything was going to be less pressured. Draco understood her. They may have different views at times but he loved her. He would never use her for anything. He needed her because he loved her, and not the other way around.

Her mother had always seen to it that she got the best compartments, the best education, the best school supplies, the finest of clothing and the most expensive jewels in the world. But it was obvious that she had done it all just so she could brag them to her friends and let them see the amount of galleons she was spending on her only daughter.

Draco was different, however. He would spend a lot for her and would literally give her almost anything because he wanted them for 'her' sake and not for anyone else's.

It made all the difference in the world, and it stung a bit to know that her own mother could even do that to her.

Sometimes, she had even wondered whether or not she really fit in this place, or if she was even from here…

When dinner was over, she was instructed to say goodnight to her fiancé so she could recline to her room for her traditional needed hours of sleep.

They said goodbye with a chaste kiss in the lips, but Merlin knew her heart had skipped a bit by the time the heat of their lips had touched. She knew he was feeling the same when she felt his hand stiffen on her back when the swift contact had ended.

Draco and she had such a strong unspoken passion.

They may fight and argue at times, ignore each other for a long time, even. But in the end, it always had been them.

They kept coming back to each other, and perhaps, it would always be perpetually like that.

They could be such a dysfunctional pair at times, poles apart in terms of everything; but they just both have something that no one else could really understand.

They were special that way, and unspoken or not, they both knew it.

After all the needed courtesy, she forced her legs to never turn around and run into her fiancé but walk delicately to her room instead, just like a proper engaged lady would do.

And now, it was a quarter to midnight and she was still wide awake, staring at her room's lacunar ceilings decorated by painted and gilded cavities. The Baroque touch of her room had always fascinated her when she was younger; right now, however, they just mocked her for the actuality that she was stuck in the bond of tradition and that like them, she was only made to please her owners.

She sighed and wondered what Draco was doing in his room now.

Probably sleeping…

… like their parents.

She suddenly stood up and stared at the large grandfather clock again when a wayward idea had entered her mind.

Their parents were sleeping, of course. And maybe Draco was as well.

But she could always wake him up…

* * *

Hermione bit her lower lip as she slowly sneaked inside her fiancé's room; her favourite book on hand. Her usual large oil lamp was not so large now compared to the time she had sneaked inside this very room so many years ago.

She grimaced at the screeching sound of the door entering her ears before finally getting inside and closing the huge wooden door slowly.

She had to be really quiet. She finally decided she just really wanted to see him. He was probably asleep already and she didn't want to—

"You look really funny imitating a slow motioned housebreaker."

She looked around and saw Draco staring at her.

He was sitting indolently on his king-sized bed, half naked with a book on his lap and a smirk on his face.

He looked really smug, but he had the right to.

He was a damn beautiful sight.

"I thought you were asleep," she pouted, blushing slightly as she went nearer and took in his form.

"I can't sleep. I miss you too much," he smirked seductively at her, idly pushing his book aside.

"Why didn't you go to my room then?" She asked, stopping and standing at an acceptable distance from his bed.

"I know you miss me enough to come to my room as well," he shrugged confidently, his smirk still plastered on his perfectly manly chiseled face.

"How did you know?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

They looked at each other for a while; hazel brown orbs melting with those grey specks.

"Come here," he finally said in a raspy whisper. Hermione could swear someone just casted a sonorous charm on her heart for it to emit such a thriving beat.

The voice was too sweet and too dictatorial for her to say no. She just had to come nearer. She felt... excited.

When she reached the tip of the bed, she suddenly shrieked when Draco had all of a sudden grabbed her waist to situate her on his lap, her legs straddling him on both sides.

"W-What are you doing?" She struggled to get away but his grip on her waist was making it impossible to do so.

"Sshh… Just kiss me already," he whispered huskily before pulling her neck towards him to ardently kiss her lips.

Hermione couldn't do anything but surrender in that moment. The feel of his bare chest to her thin nightgown was beautiful… velvety and beautiful. But it could never compare to their mouths, colliding with each other just like a dancing battle, nipping, biting, sucking… tongues reveling on the moment that they're home again.

She moaned and arched into him when his head ducked to nip on her neck and his hands started on caressing her body, slipping them inside her already hiked up nightgown due to her position.

His hands were rougher and stronger. He had told her about some of his dueling lessons with his godfather. It didn't just involve magic but stamina and endurance as well, so he was also asked to learn the art of battling physically as well. His work outs had made his chest even broader and his body even manlier. What she loved the most was the great contrast of her soft body to his rough one. It made her feel like they were really made to complement each other.

The coarse feel of his palms on her skin was like electricity; it sparkled and teased her to no end.

This was just one of her endless unconstrained moments with him.

He could just make her feel so… free.

Like she could do anything she wanted because he was always there to catch her.

The security and refuge he could offer her made her feel very special. It was only with him that she could feel this way, to get out of her little box and feel everything and revel into it.

She was just too turned on now, she wanted to burst. The wetness she felt between her legs was begging her for more friction and she just couldn't get enough. She could feel his hardness and her heart was rallying to just give in to the powerful, overwhelming feelings they both so obviously feel. It was liberating, almost primal.

"Draco," she breathed, trying so hard to find strength to get back to her more rational consciousness.

He didn't stop but just even doubled his ministrations on her body, making her groan even more when he finally took her nightgown off and hastily plunged into her breast, making her scream in ecstasy as he sucked one of her hardened nipples and roughly kneaded the other one with his coarse palm.

It felt too good, she was sure she had lost any sense of bashfulness for her embarrassing scream anymore.

She sucked in a shortened breath when he suddenly slightly pushed her to the rumpled sheets to maneuver his body to be on top of her, her legs still spread and situated on both his sides as he gripped her hips tightly, panting and looking at her like he was just going to eat her alive.

Was this it?

Were they finally going to do it?

"Draco, please. Stop," she suddenly begged, looking much panicked when she felt his fingers hooking the band of her silky laced knickers.

"Why?" He choked out. His muscles were already strained and he looked as if he was in pain, trying to stop whatever it was he wanted to do just to hear her out.

"Y-You promised me you won't rush me if I'm not ready yet," she whimpered, suddenly feeling like crying, although she honestly didn't know why.

"I thought you were ready. I mean, you're letting me… you know… and we're engaged now, aren't we?" He asked her, looking both confused and conflicted now. His chest was rising up and down in an agitated manner, and she was sure his eyes were trying to plead her to give him what he wanted.

"I'm scared." She couldn't really say anything longer, so she just told him the plain truth. They said it would hurt after all.

"I'll take care of you. I promise. I'm going to make you love this, Hermione," he told her; almost pleading now. Hermione had to look sideways to get away from his painfully strained expression.

She really just couldn't do this now.

He didn't move from his position for a while, until Hermione felt his weight being lifted on top of her. She closed her eyes and stayed lying there while feeling the bed wobbled a bit as he moved away.

The loss of contact of skin and the loss of heaviness from his body felt incredibly dreadful. A sharp tingle of loneliness had suddenly invaded her system.

She turned her head to look at him. He was sitting at the edge of the bed with his back on her. She could see the deep, frantic movement of his bare back. He was still trying to even his breathing as he ran a frustrated hand on his messy baby fine hair.

Hermione took this time to slowly sit up and wear her discarded nightgown.

The silence was deafening after that.

It throbbed a bit looking at how frustrated and disappointed he was. He even seemed angry.

"Draco? Are you mad at me?" Hermione whispered worriedly as she scooted nearer to her fiancé, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not mad, Hermione," Draco softly answered as he finally turned to look at her, still trying to even his breathing. "I should be the one who should say sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"I let you do it. It's my fault for confusing you," she shook her head while gently kissing his cheek.

"Let's just forget about it, okay?" He smiled at her as he hugged her tightly while smelling her hair. Hermione could still hear the chaotic beating of his heart through his chest and on how much he was trying to stop his breathless state. It was obvious that he really wanted to get away for a while to compose himself, but he still decided to comfort her just to assure her that he wasn't mad.

She wanted to cry.

This was why Draco was really special.

None of the people outside could ever imagine him being this sweet and gentle. He didn't do this kind of thing to everyone. Actually, he really didn't do this to anyone at all, except to her.

She was sure some people could guarantee the end of the world if Draco Malfoy could ever be seen like this. This just wasn't his nature at all.

But they both kept a secret.

She was this formal, perfect, prudish, Victorian prissy princess to the eyes of others, but Draco knew how she could be the most rebellious girl as well.

He was the most pompous, arrogant, rich kid who was rude and hated by almost everyone. The thought of him being soft was much too impossible to even discern, but she knew that he could be the sweetest guy on earth as well.

No one knew this but them.

It was their thing, and no one else could ever break that, somehow.

"I love you so much, Draco," she smiled as she closed her eyes, feeling the great comfort and sanctuary he always offered. Nothing could ever take this away from her.

"You know I love you too, princess," he beamed while kissing her forehead. "Now let's get on with the real purpose why you're here," he chuckled softly, trying to change the topic or maybe distract his own self as he turned to stare at Hermione's discarded book on the floor instead.

Hermione saw what he was referring to and beamed at him. "I came here for my bedtime story," she impishly said.

"Some habits just can't really change, eh?" He laughed quietly, remembering what they used to do when they were younger, sneaking in each other's room just to read books. She was such a bad influence.

Hermione just smiled and summoned the book on the floor and gave it to Draco.

"Your favourite mythology book," Draco nodded as he opened the pages of the books.

"I always carry it around," she nodded while scooting nearer to his embrace. He took this opportunity to entwine his arm around her waist and lean a bit to catch a whiff of her sweet-scented hair again.

"So let's get this straight. You came here so I can read you a bedtime story?" He frowned teasingly at her.

"And so we can watch the summer sunrise together as well," she nodded, wrinkling her nose a bit when he started on kissing its tip tenderly.

"You and your sappy little mind," he rolled his eyes amusedly at her.

"I've read once about life's instructions written by this really good author that watching the sunrise at least a year makes your life more meaningful. Like planting a tree on your birthday, saying I love you, keeping a promise, be the first one to say hello, looking people in the eye, smiling… It's like saving a life, you know," she told him, smiling distantly into space.

Draco couldn't say anything but just look at her, once again trying to comprehend the fact on how the hell did he ever get so lucky that this beautiful girl was here with him, and she was all his.

If she needed more time then he would give it to her.

She was definitely worth it.

"When I was younger I would wake up and go search for that one special place just to say hello to the sun. I would play with little dew drops and run into fogs. I always loved playing with the sun with my little fingers, you know. You spread your hand like this," she whispered while taking Draco's hand and spreading its fingers in the air. "Then you close it and open it again," she continued while gently dispersing his fingers then closing them together, like that of a peacock's tail.

"The rays are like crystal balls when it hits you. Nanny Demelza got mad at me when I told her I liked looking directly at the sun. She said it's not good for my eyes. But what she didn't know was its beautiful, gentle beam when you look directly into it during the very first minute it says hello to you, that it warms you when you experience its very first rays. It's a beautiful feeling. I always wanted to share one with you before, and eat some breakfast on a blanket after we watch it. But you always slept so deep and I was afraid of waking you up," she chuckled fondly at the memory.

"You were such a spoiled brat when we were younger. You were always mad at everybody, and I was afraid to get you mad at me because I didn't want you to ignore me because I always wanted to be with you. I guess I already love you back then, even in those innocent times," she added while smiling at his awestruck expression.

Draco couldn't do anything but lean into her and kiss her deeply.

He just _had to_ kiss her.

She was the only one who could really make him feel this way.

The feel of their lips together was perfect, teasing and melting with each others' warmth and majestically enthralling their senses.

It was overwhelming. Everything was just too irresistible that he had only just realized that they were _really_ engaged now. It was surreal; knowing that they were engaged and being happy with it was a totally different feeling compared to realizing and making everything sunk into his system that they were _really_ engaged. That she was really his and would be forever.

He suddenly wanted to skip on the coming two years so they could graduate and marry.

So he could take her with him, walk around with her hand on his arm and tell everybody that she was his and there was nothing that they could do about it.

No man could ever touch her, but him. She was just too pure and untouched that the protectiveness he had with her was just becoming too powerful each day. He didn't even want any man to even look at her. She was born for _him_ alone and he would rather kill than share.

She would be fully his someday, and when that time comes, he would see to it she wouldn't even dare think or even look at any man but _him_.

"I'll do anything you want, anything you say," he whispered through fluttered eyes. He couldn't help it. This girl had her magic leaking out all over his skin and he just couldn't get enough.

"You'll wake up in the break of dawn for me?"

"If I have to be like your hyperactive schoolmates, then so be it."

"You'll read me my bedtime story?" She crossed her arms while batting her eyelashes sweetly at him. She knew it always worked.

"Anything you want, you have it," he smiled while gently squeezing her chin, making her giggle softly.

"Glad you know," Hermione grinned while tapping the book impatiently to indicate him to start reading.

"I really think I spoiled you too much," he shook his head while obediently opening the book, making her chuckle even more.

"Nice bookmark," he suddenly smirked when he saw a withered dried daffodil while skimming the pages.

This made Hermione stop laughing as she bit her lower lip instead. There was a newly formed bright pinkish glow on her cheeks. It amused him.

"Is this the daffodil I gave you before?" He couldn't help but ask, looking suddenly stunned and amazed for his newfound realization.

She just nodded, blushing even deeper. "I-I've kept it ever since."

Draco shook his head, his mouth still slightly opened to the awareness of what she just did. His little defiant self just picked that daffodil off somewhere, but she kept it. He even remembered on how crumpled it looked because he had shoved it first inside his pocket. But still… she kept it.

He suddenly felt very special…

"And there I was, thinking that you've really forgotten all about me," he told her both in disbelief and in astonishment.

"I never did, Draco. I was so devastated when you went away; even more when I thought you didn't answer any of my letters. There was even a time when I thought you hated me at some point," she told him truthfully, her fingers lightly stroking the withered daffodil which was stuck on the page of her book.

"That will never happen. I promise you, princess. I never stopped loving you and I never will," he uttered while taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.

They stayed like that for a little while. They always took comfort with each other. Despite all the things rammed into them in their demanding world, they had always known they always had each other. Never mind all the endless stipulations and requisites demanded to them by their parents, or even the never-ending duties and obligations they needed to do, or the lack of even a little appreciation in everything.

They had each other now.

Everything was simpler if they would just focus in that fact.

"Please read me this one," Hermione whispered as she pointed on the title. "It's my favourite," she added while leaning and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Alright," Draco smiled and kissed her temple before starting to read her a story.

Pygmalion and Galatea. It was a story about a love so inimitable that it was difficult to define, let alone accepted when clearly thought of. Pygmalion was a handsome young master sculptor in ancient Greece. His works were so perfect that he had even started to see every flaw of the women who wanted him and because of this, he had lived unmarried, always seeking for perfection but he just couldn't find it.

One day, he decided to sculpt a beautiful ivory statue of a perfect woman. The statue was too beautiful and too perfect that it was even hard to believe that it was lifeless. The maiden even seemed to look as if she had just chosen not to move out of modesty.

It was inevitable. Pygmalion had fallen deeply in love with his own masterpiece. Sometimes, he would touch and caress her as if to assure his own self whether or not she was real. He couldn't even believe she was only made of ivory.

He pampered the figure and named it "Galatea", which meant "sleeping love". He would stroke the statue; give it presents of bright shells and polished stones. He would give it flowers and little birds. He would give it jewels, earrings, strings of pearls and necklaces. He dressed it and even laid it with cloths of Tyrian dye and called it his very own wife.

When the festivities of Aphrodite came, Pygmalion decided to take part of the rituals and ask forgiveness to the goddess for all the years he had turned away from her. He asked for a wife like that of his ivory maiden because he knew it was too impossible to ask for his ivory maiden itself, although in his very heart, he really wanted it and no else. The goddess was amazed on just how much the young man loved such a lifeless thing which was only made of ivory, so she brought the statue to life.

By her grace, Pygmalion and Galatea were married. Their union produced a son named Paphos, from whom the city of Paphos which was sacred to Aphrodite had received its name.

"Even if he knew where she had come from, and she was just from an ivory, he loved her still so dearly even how much his mind would tell him how wrong it was. I think it's romantic. Don't you?" Hermione sighed when Draco was done reciting the work of the Roman poet, Ovid.

"I don't know…" He was suddenly frowning in uncertainty. "I mean, she's still a stone, isn't she? She's not even human, more like an abomination, really."

* * *

**A/N: Song for this chapter: "Magic" by Colbie Caillat. :) **

**Thank you for reading and for all your reviews! :) Would you be kind enough to send me more and tell me what you think? **

**I also want to post this message from one of my reviewers named ****waterflower20**** :) Her beta Maria Binger is taking part in a live journal's community auction, which main goal is to raise funds to assist the research for SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). The live journal community is named stop_sids. It'll be really nice if any of you can help in this one as it is for a really good cause. Thank you, lovelies. :) And of course I'm not annoyed of your message, honey. Believe it or not, I LOVE getting one. And I read them all even if I can't reply to everyone. You're my constant reviewer too and I remember you reviewing my other stories as well, and I feel very much indebted to that. Thank you very much and I wish you and your friend luck for a successful goal. It's always nice taking part of projects such as these, so keep that up. :)**

**God bless you all!**

**Also, thank you for being patient with my updates. This story will be continued no matter how busy I am with my muggle life, so I'm really hoping you can stay with me throughout it all. Thank you so much again!**

**Love, **

**Sue**


	20. Summer Rain

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty**

"**Summer Rain"**

"Draco, wake up…"

Draco moaned and opened his eyes to see Hermione looking directly at him, her long hair serving as curtains among her dimly lit gentle face while looking down at him.

He couldn't help but smile. She looked like an angel.

He could definitely get used of waking up every morning like this.

"Is it time?" He asked in a sleepy whisper while raising his hand gently to tuck in an ample amount of curls to her small ear. He knew he promised her that they would watch the sunrise together. He really hated waking up too early. And he felt really comfortable in his pillows now that all that he really wanted was to stay in this bed forever with her.

Everything felt and smelled like blooming jasmine flowers in the midst of spring accompanied by a velvety touch of winter with a bouquet of damask roses.

Everything was so deliciously feminine and warm as well.

Everything felt and smelled like… Hermione.

He wondered what his life would be if he could wake up every morning with her as his wife, with her essence fused with his bed sheets, pillows and shirts…

Nothing could ever be better than lying there and looking up at the girl of his dreams, staring tenderly at him. The small, gentle droplets of the rain outside were serenading his senses, calming him and begging him to stay in that tempting half-asleep condition.

It was only when he realized that she wasn't smiling back that he knew he really needed to abandon dreamland. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked as he gently sat up and cupped her worried face. She was just so warm and so soft, but she seemed not as happy as he was.

Had he done something wrong?

"Fuck. Am I late? Did we miss it? Did I wake up on time and—"

"It's raining, Draco," she told him softly as she stared at the droplets tapping on their windowpane.

Oh.

So the sound of the rain wasn't from his dream.

"Guess we just have to do it tomorrow," she continued as she disappointedly sighed and scooted nearer to rest her head on his chest. "Well, at least you get to sleep again, huh."

"But you just woke me up," he said before kissing her temple tenderly. They were both so comfortable with each other already; every action even seemed too instinctive now.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it," she shrugged. She looked a bit sad and he knew she woke him up since she was looking for something to at least make her feel better. It made him a bit happy that she had somehow come to rely on him in almost everything; again, another one of the endless indications on how strong they really were together.

"Well, I'm not sleepy now," he lied. He was still very sleepy. He wasn't a morning person at all and he would stay in bed until a quarter to noon if he could help it.

The soft sound of the rain, the velvety feel of his pillows and bed sheets, her warmth and the tempting softness of his bed were like magnets pulling him down to relax and close his eyes. But he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that he didn't try to at least make her feel better.

As her valiant fiancé, it was his duty after all.

"Tell you what. I have a surprise for you," he suddenly grinned at her while kissing her forehead before standing up.

Hermione frowned at him but followed him anyway when he started on wearing his white shirt and robe which were hanging on his bedside table.

"What?" Hermione blushed when he suddenly raked his gaze over her nightgown as she stood beside him.

"You came here last night without even wearing a robe over that thin nightgown of yours. No wonder we really almost did _it_," he smirked teasingly at her.

"I-I didn't—I forgot about it, okay?" She glared at him while demurely crossing her arms over her chest to ineffectively cover herself. She really had forgotten about it. She had missed him so much last night and she was so conflicted whether or not she needed to sneak inside his room, so she ended up running into the hallway without covering her long, midnight blue coloured and even almost transparent nightgown made of sentient silk. She hadn't really thought about what she would have had looked like when she entered Draco's room. But now that she had thought about it and he had mentioned it so openly, she couldn't help but blush even more.

She had indeed given him some mixed signals. No wonder they almost…

"Give me that!" She demanded while tugging on the robe he was already wearing.

"Hey, you don't have to be that straightforward. All you need to do is to ask if you want to see me naked, you know," he chuckled fondly at her.

"Draco!" She complained while gently smacking his arm, too gently actually that it could almost be mistaken as a caress. He had incredibly firm biceps. Her boyfriend hadn't only gotten taller through the years but had also gotten a manlier built. He had always been lean, but now, he had broader chest, firmer muscles and a well built physique as well.

She had to take her hand off of him before he could notice that she was suddenly hyperventilating.

"W-Where are we going anyway? It's raining," she asked him instead, trying to stop herself from raking her eyes on his thin white shirt as he took his robe off. He studied her for a while and she looked away while biting her lower lip in nervousness. If he had noticed her coyness then he decided to ignore it when he just casually smiled and helped her get inside the robe.

"So what if it's raining? We used to love the rain when we were younger," he beamed at her while offering her his arm.

Like a child, Hermione suddenly felt excited again.

He, alone, could cause her this reaction.

* * *

"Draco! What are you doing?" Hermione screamed like an outraged mother by the time her fiancé had just heedlessly ran straight towards the pouring rain by the time they reached the manor's vine covered loggia.

It was a bit misty and shady in the break of dawn because of the dark clouds covering the coming splendour of the sun. The heaviness of the downpour was giving tiny sprinkles on her skin, teasing her to abandon her shaded place and run into the rain with him.

"Aw, my fiancée is being boring now!" Draco faked a small sigh as he clutched his soaked shirt on his chest while dramatically shaking his head.

Merlin, he looked… edible.

"I am not being boring! You're just going to catch a cold! Come back here this instant so I can dry you up!" She shouted back, but he just laughed hysterically at her and opened his arms towards the crying sky.

His laugh was just too contagious. She couldn't even keep a serious face while trying to scold him.

"Why the hell are you laughing?" She shouted while placing both her hands on her waist in a reprimanding manner.

"I dunno," he shrugged, face flushed with laughter. "Why are _you_ laughing?"

"Because you won't stop laughing!"

"I can't stop laughing because you won't stop laughing too!"

"I hate you!"

"Just come over here already," he chuckled while opening his arms for her, tempting her to play with him under the rain just like they used to when they were younger…

"_Draco! Come back! They're going to be really mad if they see you playing under the rain!" Little Hermione shouted worriedly, considering that her playmate was already soaked and was uncaringly playing with the puddles of the rain. She really didn't want him to get in trouble._

"_Come play with me, Mione!" Draco demanded while scooping a ladle of water from a formed puddle in the waterlogged ground._

"_No! If you won't stop it this instant, I won't play with you anymore! I won't play with you forever!" She threatened the little boy. She was getting anxious that he was going to get caught so she had to resort on threatening him. She didn't want to do that but she knew she needed to. His father would just beat him up again. She could heal his wounds again of course, but he would still get hurt in the process. She didn't want that._

"_You're such a killjoy," Draco muttered huffily while walking back into the shaded loggia. In such an utterly strange way, Hermione could somehow control him by just threatening him never to play with him anymore. He liked playing with her. He always wanted to be with her. It somehow scared him that she would go play with someone else and not with him, especially with Adrian. It was a confusing thing his little mind was still currently figuring out. _

"_See? You're all wet now. You might get ill," Hermione said while concernedly wiping his face and soaked hair with her large handkerchief. His pale blonde hair was a darker shade of gold and yellow now when it was all wet. _

"_No I won't. I don't get sick. I'm strong enough. Father said Malfoys don't just get sick. We have a superior blood," he told her stubbornly but didn't move so she could continue drying his hair. He liked the tickly feel of it. _

"_Hermione? What are you two doing?"_

_Both turned around and saw Hermione's older brother, Adrian, crossing his arms while staring incredulously at them. _

"_Adrian! Sssh…" Hermione placed a finger on her lips to warn her brother not to tell this to anyone. Draco was soaking wet and she knew that if Adrian would go off and tell it to the adults, Draco would be beaten up by his father again. Draco had made her promise never to tell to anybody that his father was beating him, most especially to Adrian. So he wouldn't really understand the extent of this. _

"_You're all wet, Draco. Did you play under the rain? You're in big trouble now," Adrian stared evenly at Draco who was then fiercely looking back at him. _

"_So? It's none of your business! Keep your nosy mouth shut!"Draco spat back. _

"_Adrian, please don't tell this to them," Hermione begged her brother, who was then frowning with his arms crossed as he looked from his sister to her playmate, seemingly trying to think things over. _

"_You know that it is forbidden to do such things, Hermione," Adrian finally said after a moment of contemplation. _

"_I know. But Draco won't do it again, I promise. Can you please dry his clothes with your wand to keep him out of trouble when he gets inside? I promise you, he really won't do it again, Adrian," Hermione pleaded softly to her brother. Unlike them, Adrian was already a bona fide wizardry student. He already owned a wand so she assumed that he could help them._

"_I can't," Adrian shook his head firmly. "I'm not of age yet to perform magic outside the school premises. It's the rules," Adrian explained. _

"_We don't need his help, Hermione! It's obvious he doesn't want to help us, anyway. He's just a useless know-it-all!" Draco huffed in disdain while pulling the girl's hand to get her closer to him. _

"_You leave my sister out of this, Draco. If there's someone who has any problem of getting in trouble then it's you," Adrian calmly told the seething boy. "She wasn't the one who played under the rain even if it's forbidden." _

"_Please, Adrian! You can't tell!"Hermione was desperately beseeching now while running into her older brother, slightly shaking him by her constant tug on his shirt._

"_Draco should have thought of that before he started on—Hey! Hermione! Come back here!" Adrian suddenly shouted outrageously when his little sister had all of a sudden ran under the downpour, her hazel brown eyes blazing in rebellious determination and her lips quivering as she looked at him in a challenging manner. Her little light freckles and long, think young lashes were lathered with droplets of rain like mild dew drops as she struggled to glare despite of the rainwater impeding her vision._

_Her fists were indomitably balled at her sides as she stared at her brother, as if willing him to tell their parents of what happened now._

"_Hermione! Get in here this instant! Stop being so stubborn," Adrian demanded, looking very angry but concerned for his little sister's welfare as well. He then nervously whipped around when he heard some sounds coming from inside the manor house. The sounds and footsteps were going towards their direction…_

_Adrian squinted worriedly while Draco poked his head on the architectural arched window to confirm their thoughts._

_Their parents were indeed coming._

_They were going to find out._

_And Hermione was still standing on her ground under the rain…_

_Adrian was about to warn his stubborn sister who was still under the heavy shower when young Draco had all of a sudden bolted out of the shaded loggia and ran straight into the rain, pulling Hermione with him as they ran as fast as they could, finally managing to be swallowed by the garden woods before their parents could emerge from the wooden domed door. _

_It was the very first time that Hermione ever felt the freest._

_Suddenly, their laughter were drowning them as they ran through the thick woods, allowing some leaves and the wind to slap them in an effervescent manner as if sadistically congratulating them for their newfound liberty as they ran, jumped and leaped through the vast grounds._

_Each jump caused some large ripples from the puddles, soaking their legs and staining their once perfect clothing. The sound of the rain mixed with their impish laughter and the gush of the wind was like a beautiful tune, assembling a beautiful memory of a carefree childhood._

_She had always wandered around this place on her own little adventures before, but right now, she didn't know which way to go and yet she didn't care. _

_As long as Draco's hand was holding hers tightly, she knew worrying was unnecessary. She knew she was safe enough to even bother._

_She was the happiest when she was with him._

_They shared such a common secret no one else would ever understand._

_They were made to runaway like this._

_They were made for each other._

_It would never change._

_That. She was very certain of._

"Draco! What are you doing? Stop!" Hermione suddenly yelped, still laughing incessantly when her fiancé had all of a sudden run towards her and carried her in a bridal style under the rain.

She was laughing too much that she was sure her hands were already slipping away from his neck. If not for his exceptionally strong hold on her, she really would have fallen off into the soggy ground.

He just laughed as his reply and swirled her around the showers of the sky.

She loved his laughter.

It was low-pitched but sweet. It was very manly but very gentle and boyish as well. It sounded very genuine, the most genuine sound she had ever heard. It was so happy. It was… rare.

It was only made for _her_.

She couldn't help but look up and abandon herself with the beautiful rollercoaster feeling as he continued on whirling her around into the rain-filled summer wind.

She closed her eyes as she felt her skin being damped by the large droplets as if they were soft kisses falling from the sky, massaging her skin on each descend.

When she opened them, she literally had seen the world go round right before her eyes, like she had finally conquered gravity and had felt the sky tumbling down on her as it was supposed to.

The rain beads from the sky were like thick pixie dusts shooting her in the fastest but in an unbelievably slowest rate as well.

She slowly opened her mouth and tasted the bland, earthy essence of the rain.

She could feel their laughter fading away as her breathing quickened its pace.

She was still staring at the sky but she could feel Draco's gaze at her like electrifying needles shooting their way into the skin of that particular spot on her neck. Her skin strongly felt like a pincushion now, tingling and stinging in an unreservedly exciting way.

She could feel that Draco had stopped turning them around.

She felt a little lightheaded, albeit she didn't know if it was from the spin or from the sudden feeling of his hot breath on her neck that left her panting in anticipation.

She wanted to look away from the sky and finally face him… kiss him.

But she just couldn't do it when his warm breath over the sensitive part of her neck was driving her to near insanity. It just felt too good to ever let go.

She bit her lower lip and moaned when she finally felt his warm mouth on her neck, nipping, gently biting and coaxing her to arch her neck to give him further access.

And so she did.

She squirmed and wriggled even nearer to him as possible to gauge him to kiss her flesh further.

She could feel the soft brush of his smothering, moist mouth against her rain soaked skin.

She whimpered when she felt the small graze of his teeth and the taunting swirl of his experienced tongue while he sensually licked and tenderly bit his way through her clavicle where he started to nip and suck, soothing the abused flesh with his tongue in the process.

It felt too damn good that she had almost let go of her hold on him by the time he had lingered on the lovely hollow between her breasts.

He then gently kissed the swell of her right breast, but didn't do anything further.

He just kissed it. He just kissed it and grazed his lips on the swell with the gentlest, mildest of touch; like he was worshipping a goddess' sacred possession.

Hermione had slowly turned her head to look at him. He was staring intensely back at her.

His golden eyelashes served as drenched curtains from his stunning grey eyes. She couldn't help but smooth his soaked silverish-blonde hair and slick it back from his face. She traced his face like that of an artist studying a certain masterpiece.

He continued on staring back at her while she studied him, as if memorizing each curvature, each hue, each elevation, each shade of his beautiful face.

Her fingers traveled and traced his eyebrows, going to his perfectly sculpted nose, to his well formed jaw and finally to his lips which were slightly apart as he breathed hot air to her skin and gently kissed her fingers. She felt almost majestic. That sheer gentle kiss was filled with adoration and high regard. It seared through her skin and into her veins travelling straight to her heart.

"What will happen to me without you?" She whispered.

"You'll never know because I'll never ever let you go. I will never let that happen. I'd have to kill first before I do that"

"Promise me we'll stay like this, Draco. Promise me this won't change. Promise me this is forever," she whispered, feeling him turn her and adjust her a little so that she was situated on his stomach, her legs straddling both his sides. She was now clinging into him like that of a spider with her soaked nightgown and robe deliciously hiked up leaving her bare legs in perfect view.

"I promise you. I'll give you the world, Hermione. You'll always be my princess. I won't let anything happen to you. You're mine and you'll always be. You've always been mine," he whispered before finally capturing her lips with his own into a deep, passionate kiss.

His kiss was intoxicating, with that sultry warm feeling of his mouth, the woody spicy scent of his breath and his unique masculine trademark fragrance.

Hermione had always loved his body mist, as it was undertone with tobacco and musk. But smelling it from the bottle was not as thrilling and as perfect as smelling it from his skin and shirt. It was the way that the scent had taken into his body and skin that made it all perfect. Perhaps, it was the chemical reaction of the blended scents; yet, now being with him under the earthy smell of the rain made her understand that his scent alone really was just perfect in anything, like human pheromones specially made for her alone. She would smell him and embrace him even after his rowdy Quidditch match and she would still love it.

And now, under this summer rain, with their skin blazing in contact with each other, she knew she just couldn't be anywhere as perfect as this place.

When the kiss ended, Hermione could swear that it was a miracle that she could still stand by the time Draco had gently placed her down. He gently kissed her forehead and she couldn't even do anything but stare at him and realize that she just had the best kiss of her life right under the summer rain. She wanted to cry and she felt pathetic but incredibly heavenly as well.

"One promise down; now let's get on with another of my pinky swear, shall we?" Draco grinned at her.

She didn't know what to do but frown dumbly at him. Her lips were still swollen and thumping and screaming for her to kiss him again.

"What are you waiting for? Come on," Draco chuckled while turning around and crouching on the ground.

"Huh?" Hermione was too gobsmacked to do anything. What the hell was he doing crouching like that?

"You silly girl," he clicked his tongue as he stood up to face her again. "Weren't you the one who told me that pinky promises are very serious matters and are needed to be fulfilled no matter what? Now get on my back so I can give you your piggyback ride."

Hermione didn't know what to do but cover her opened mouth with her trembling hands while shaking her head in laughter.

He was such an amazing, amazing man.

She was left speechless.

_"Please don't cry, Mione. I promise you, we'll still see each other again," Little Draco told her softly while brushing off the fat tears rolling down her cheeks._

_"Promise me we'll still play under the rain even if we're already older and boring. Promise me you'll still let me ride on your back even if I get heavier. Promise me you'll always be my prince. Promise me we'll always be together, Draco," she sniffed while leaning into him. "Even if I'll have a different school, please promise me you won't forget about me."_

_"I promise, Mione. We'll always be together. You're my only princess," he nodded, looking as if he was going to cry; but decided he should be strong for the both of them. He didn't want his princess to think he was a weakling, did he?_

_"Pinky swear?" She asked him._

_"Pinky swear," he smiled while interlacing his finger with hers, intending to keep his promise forever._

_Hermione smiled at him… her big brown eyes looking up at him with so much innocence and beauty that he suddenly couldn't help but bend forward and press his lips into hers._

_It was a very chaste kiss, but still…a kiss._

Their first kiss…

"You're unbelievable!" She laughed, still shaking her head for his mind-boggling charm.

"I know, that's why you love me," he winked while smirking at her in that usual smug look of his.

A few seconds later, she found herself laughing gaily on his back as he ran around their childhood place.

Hermione chuckled as she placed her left hand to stroke the drenched summer flowers, some white and yellow freesias and beautiful perennials of asters while her right was protectively tucked with Draco's hand over his shoulder and into his chest.

She was too happy; she couldn't care less of their fingers being wrinkled because of the rain.

She closed her eyes and held unto him even more tightly while he ran back towards the manor's loggia. They were still laughing when they finally got there, soaking wet and drenching the once unblemished marble floor.

Draco placed his hands on his knees by the time he had placed Hermione down. With all the endless laughter while carrying her around, he needed to catch his breath for a while.

He was becoming the biggest sap on earth. What possessed him to do that, he really didn't know. But he was the happiest bloke in the planet now, so he really couldn't care less.

When he looked up to stare at her, he'd known the reason instantly.

She was standing and leaning on one of the columns of the pierced openings of the wall, still laughing endlessly. She was soaking wet and her skin were drenched with droplets from the rain. The bare skin of her neck going to her clavicle were flushing, damped with glorious kisses and marked with his own love bites.

His eyes caught a single drop of rain from her jaw; it descended down to her neckline and ran straight into her cleavage, hiding teasingly in the inside of her thin, soaked nightgown. The robe he had given her was already opened due to their recent activities, and he could feel an urgent excitement into his lower region when his eyes once again had wandered into her torso. Her nightgown was completely sticking into her skin, like a chameleon blending into its beautiful surroundings. He could see her as if she was naked now. The mounds on her breasts were teasing him as her chest rose and fell while she innocently breathed for air.

Nothing could ever be more beautiful than his rain soaked Hermione…

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, feeling his heart say the very words out loud as he went near her and scooped her waist, cupping her face with his other hand as he stared intently at her angelic face.

Hermione just bit her lower lip as her eyes went straight into his lips in an excruciatingly slow pace, almost too sensual that he had forgotten to breathe when she did.

"You want to kiss me?" He whispered huskily, now panting for air and causing his chest to rub on hers, their heartbeats almost being synchronized as one.

All she had to do was nod, and a single second later, he had plunged down to give her a searing, hot kiss.

Hermione seemed very eager as she kissed him back as passionately while burying her hands on his hair and nape.

They were so lost in the moment that they hadn't heard the small footsteps coming from the indoors.

It was only when Draco had leaned down to kiss her neck when Hermione saw the tall figure through the window, coming towards the door to open it.

"Draco, stop. Someone's coming," she whispered urgently while tugging on his wet blond hair so he would stop their current act.

"Dammit," he cursed before hurriedly pulling her towards the side of the door, quietly stealing a glimpse to the person walking towards their direction. It was her stupid brother, Adrian, still on his robes as he casually walked with a cup of tea in hand. It appeared he just woke up and was about to go out into the loggia.

"What are we going to do, Draco? We really should have brought our wands," Hermione whispered worriedly at her fiancé, remembering their abandoned wands on his bed.

"So you approve of me hexing your brother then?" Draco joked; making Hermione pinch his shoulder gently.

"No! I was just thinking that if we have our wands, we might be able to do something to at least distract him so he won't go here," she whispered loudly.

"I was just kidding, princess. Stop making me jealous with your stupid brother," Draco pinched her nose before walking into the opened grounds to obtain a stone. "Here, let me solve the problem."

Hermione had barely opened her mouth to spat back when Draco had all of a sudden threw the stone straight into Adrian's head, making him yelp and fall into the floor because of the pain.

"Draco! What have you—ooooomph!" Hermione gasped when Draco had rapidly threw her into his shoulder and ran straight for the stairs while Adrian rolled over on the floor due to the pain; not being able to look at the culprit of his sudden pain while his broken cup scattered on the stained floor.

"What was that? You've hurt him! How dare you do that?" Hermione yelled furiously at the man she had been kissing just a while ago. This time however, she was pushing him away like a newly caught thief. He'd been running at different directions with her on his shoulder and they appeared to have ended up at a certain attic on the west wing of the huge manor.

"It's just a stone. He'll be alright," Draco explained while closing the large door and locking it properly.

"But you still hurt him!" Hermione argued back, looking very enraged of what he just did.

Merlin, she was so beautiful when she was angry and all flushed like this.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He decided to lie. He was too good at lying and looking sorry, anyway; might as well use it so he could touch her again.

"Adrian is still my brother. I'm not allowing you to do that again," she told him, still looking angry but a little calmer this time.

"Okay, okay," he sighed, shaking his head in defeat and fake remorse. "I'm so sorry. I panicked. I didn't want us to get caught, you know. I guess I acted on my instinct. I won't do it again. I'm so sorry, Hermione," he lied again, walking closer to her.

Just a little more persuasion and he could touch her again.

Fuck, he just really needed to touch her again. She looked so beautiful, so… ripe.

"You need to make sure that he's okay," Hermione insisted, placing a hand on his chest to stop him when he tried to kiss her.

"What?" He grimaced.

"You heard me. Get back in there and make sure he's okay," she demanded him in a firm voice.

"But, Hermione, I'm all wet. He might wonder what happened," he told her, almost whining like a spoiled child.

"I don't care. Go to your room, retrieve our wands and dry yourself if you want. Just make sure he's okay," she said while crossing her arms. "At the meantime, I am not going out of this room without you making sure of my brother's safety."

"But you're all wet, Hermione. You might get sick. At least go back to my room with me and we'll both get dried and—"

"No. I want my brother's wellbeing before mine. I'd just feel guilty if I do that. And besides, you and I being in your room will probably lead into something…"

"Something like?" He teased.

"It's not the point! Get back in there and make sure my brother is alright!"

"For pity's sake, Hermione. He's not a baby!"

"And he's hurt! Now if you're really sorry about what you did, you'll do what I told you to do!"

Draco knew the argument was over. Fuck Adrian for ruining everything. He'd get him back for this. For the meantime, he knew he just have to get her favour back.

"Alright," he sighed. "At least get back in your room and dry yourself. I'll go get our wands in my room and attend to your brother's safety. Is that okay?" He asked her gently. He couldn't just leave her in this room. He didn't even know why he had entered here in the first place. He was just too desperate to get away and get inside a room. This was the first room in the west wing he could find that he'd known no one resided. It looked like an abandoned loft, only it was wider and seemed to look like a mini library of superfluous papers. He assumed this place weren't usually visited, probably just a space for all unnecessary business documents.

Hermione just nodded, still crossing her arms; nudging her head a little to indicate him to go now.

He really had to fix what he just did.

"I'll see you in your room, okay?" He asked her hopefully.

Again, not a single answer, just a brief nod.

He sighed and kissed her forehead before leaving the room to do his unwanted mission.

Hermione stared at the closed door for a while, before sighing and sitting unceremoniously on the stilted floor, her nightgown still dripping due to her dampness.

She wasn't angry at Draco.

She really couldn't get mad at him at all.

But sometimes, she knew she just had to tame him and make sure he would pick the right choices.

In all honesty, she had tried really hard to be positive to Draco's stories to her about his training with his godfather. He had always been excited while talking to her about this and she knew he was fishing for encouragement and she had given him that the best she could, even if she knew that deep inside she was becoming worried in this so-called training. She had heard him learning about the corners of the dark arts and she couldn't quite accept that fully. He said it was just like "Defense against the Dark Arts", except that he'd learned different sides at the same time, not just the counter-curse but the curse itself.

Her parents were influential in the pureblood society and though very prominent, they chose to stand in peace and to be independent from all these secret chaos going on inside. Her mother didn't approve of her father's passivity in all these. Hermione had even heard them argue a couple of times because of this. Her mother wanted him to join the 'circle'.

Hermione couldn't really understand what this meant, but she knew that in this so-called circle, Draco's father was one of the heads, the one closest to… you-know-who.

Hermione's father didn't want to talk to them about this matter, but she knew that the moment the incident on the Triwizard tournament happened when an innocent student was killed was the turning point of it all. The higher pureblood society had been very discreet about this, but Hermione knew that deep inside, each were never really given that much of a choice.

This fact had given Draco a very big responsibility. Hermione honestly thought it was too unfair to just shove him into all this madness without fully understanding everything. Draco had been very eager, of course. But it was just because he had been brainwashed and was only taught one-sidedly.

Whenever she would try to tell him something against this matter, he would quickly change the topic or would just let her speak but he wouldn't really listen.

It scared her somehow.

She was scared for him.

It was in times like these, whenever he would resort to his brutality that reminded Hermione of the things so unjustly rammed into him.

They were trying to turn her Draco into something he wasn't, and she would try to stop this from happening no matter what.

She knew he was a good man. She had seen it herself. But he just grew up being taught not to be.

He was trained to really believe these erroneous viewpoints and he was completely blinded. He was meant to be blinded, after all.

All his life, he'd been struggling to get his father's favour and he felt that this was his chance. He was perfectly alright with all these, excited in fact, but Hermione knew that if there was any victim in this so-called powerful circle, then it would be him.

She exhaled noisily before standing up to get out of the room. Before she was able to do so, however, the partially opened window was suddenly pushed by the strong gust of air. She walked towards it and struggled for a while to close it, being drenched even more by the rain at the process. When she had finally closed the stubborn window, she noticed some of the files and documents were messily scattered on the floor, some even damped with the rude rain-filled wind.

It was quite a mess. It was in these times that she wished she had her wand with her.

She heaved a sigh yet again as she kneeled down to manually take everything back to their proper places.

It was when she saw it…

Amongst the surplus of papers and documents was a single picture, different from the others she had always seen for it wasn't moving at all. Perhaps, this was what they called a _muggle photograph_.

In the photograph were her parents, smiling at the camera, together with another couple. They seemed pretty happy, like they were really good friends.

The place where the picture was taken was quite familiar to her. She remembered the beautiful lake just behind them and those pedal and rowing boats she had enjoyed so much with her father and her brother. Even the little bench and the old tree she had always loved to carve her name on were there as well.

It was their secret weekend park.

This place held a very special memory of her childhood. She had spent her secret weekends with her father and Adrian in this very spot. She even remembered a few of the names of her secret muggle friends with Adrian. They were a lot of fun to be with. Everything was just so simple that time. It was just so easy to make friends, so perfect to eat ice creams, laugh and just play because everyone was friends anyway. Her favourite time was when they would go to the ice cream parlour. Her favourite was chocolate chip ice cream, Adrian always got vanilla fudge ripple while her father would get butter pecan.

What confused her, however, was her mother's presence in this happy picture.

Her father had never failed to warn them never to tell these weekend getaways to their mother because she hated anything that has got to do with muggles.

Yet here she was, even locking her arm with the muggle woman beside her.

She could tell that they were muggles by the way they dress, and she also assumed that they really didn't know about the magic world as her parents seemed to blend with them as well so there was not a chance that her mother didn't know.

But this wasn't the reason why Hermione's heart started on drumming at an increasingly faster rate. It wasn't because of how happy they were, even; or on how much they had blended with the other couple so well.

It was because, for the first time in her whole life, Hermione felt something so powerful and too potent that she could hardly breathe as she stared at the picture.

She suddenly felt her vision going a little misty and her lips slowly curving into a gentle smile, though she didn't know why.

Perhaps she was just too amused of the fact that the woman whom her mother was locking arms with had perfectly the same chocolate brown eyes as hers.

* * *

**A/N: This is probably my longest chapter yet for this story and I really had fun writing it. This took a lot of songs to get my muses on, however, as I'm currently having an on and off writing syndrome, if there's such a thing as that. Haha. But anyway, song for this chapter will be: Summer Rain by Matthew Morrison, a really good one. Check it out! :) **

**And yay! (Giddy feeling) We're getting into some really important parts here. I'm so, so excited to write the later chapters and I hope you'll stay with me. Thank you so much dears and hoping you to have a lovely, God blessed day! R&R please? **

**And oh, to all Dramione shippers, May is our anniversary month so I want to greet you all a Happy Dramione Anniversary month! LONG LIVE DRAMIONE! Cheers to all the love, cheers to all the faith, cheers for believing that there is no bounds in loving someone, cheers for believing that anything is possible and that sacrificing for love is as amazing as loving itself, that loving someone is not just because it is convenient but because you feel what you feel and you choose to fight for it. **

**Love, **

**Sue**


	21. I Love You, Mother

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-one**

"**I Love You, Mother"**

Petrova Morag Pucey (née Dubois) had always thought she would be great someday. Never once had she pictured her life to be lesser than the best. She couldn't let it; not that all her life she was often compared to her perfect, faultless elder sister.

No. She never hated her sister.

She even loved her.

She was the only one who had been there for her when she had none.

When their mother announced she wasn't perfect enough, Genevieve was there to assure Petrova that she was wrong. When she was getting in trouble with her grades, her elder sister was there to help her and cover her up from their parents.

Petrova might be ambitious enough to get jealous, but she couldn't make herself hate the only person who had showed her that she was loved somehow.

Therefore, she stayed in the background.

She had convinced herself to stay hidden behind her sister's shadow to stay safe.

Why wouldn't she? She was always the weaker one; always less than an ounce or a mile from her sister.

Even the first guy she had ever fancied had fallen in love with her very own sister.

It hurt.

But she knew she needed not to linger in that spiteful fact when she'd known how happy her sister was and how proud her parents were of her.

She watched with squared shoulders as her sister floated down the aisle.

It was her dream wedding. He was her dream guy.

But the girl was never her.

Petrova knew her sister was the luckiest girl alive. What was the use of her being born after her if she didn't really exist much? Was she a surplus? Maybe.

It was months after that she realized none of them would matter much in the future.

Her sister had it all: the grandest wedding, one of the biggest pureblood names in history, the most expensive garments and jewels, one of the grandest homes at France…

Yet it all lasted for months. Just months.

Being in one of the most influential families in the wizardry world had its own demise. Unlike all the other pureblood families, Genevieve and her husband had refused the offer of Voldemort during the rise of the first wizarding war on the formation of the Death Eater Rebellion when it had reached the premises of France in the late 1970s.

They knew the price wouldn't be that easy, but they had never expected how much it would cost them.

Petrova could clearly remember the devastated look of her elder sister, Genevieve, as she screamed and grieved for their burning mansion on that fateful night.

A dark mark was snarling along with the dark clouds. Her home was burning in mournful flames along with her life and dreams together with the husband who had died to save her.

After that night, Genevieve was never the same again. She was still the sister who had cared a great lot for her. But she was never the same. She never believed in love any longer.

It was then when Petrova had realized that in this world, playing fair wouldn't really take you anywhere.

So when this English wizard named Ansleigh Pucey had asked for her hand in marriage when he had traveled to France for a business transaction, she didn't need to ask her heart's opinion about it. All that she needed was to be logical, to be smarter rather than to feel anything not based on reason.

Among her suitors, he was the richest. He was kind and gentle as well, though those traits didn't really matter. He could offer her the protection and security that she needed. He had money. And that was it.

What was the use of being in love when you were in a constant struggle?

They said it was better to love and hurt than to not love at all.

But why waste your time loving when you know that you would get hurt in the end? Wasn't it reminiscent of sending your own self to your doom by temporarily being happy?

So she did what was best.

And that was to save her family.

She took pride of the fact that accepting Ansleigh's persistent efforts wasn't an act of selfishness but the other way around.

The death of Genevieve's husband had been a demoralizing experience not only for her but to their whole family as well.

Their parents were too old to protect their family anymore. They had enough investments and enough name to matter in the French and Parisian circle of elite purebloods, but that was all.

It wasn't enough.

It always wasn't enough in this world.

It had always been a competition.

And if you trip along the race, you need to stand up as quickly as possible in order not to be stomped on by the ruthless hoard.

They needed a new man to uphold the family. They never had a son and their only hope was their children to survive this harsh world of the privileged.

And Ansleigh Pucey had offered just as that. His name was strong enough but not as dominant to be inside the circle of the rebellion. When the first wizarding war ended, the Pucey family name had lived on to be one of those few elites who managed to keep their name spotless and unsoiled.

Suddenly, Petrova was the Dubois family's heroine.

_She _had saved them all.

_She _was the one who had walked down that aisle. _She_ was the one who looked perfect. _She_ had the finest gown, the most costly and brightest jewels. _She_ was the pride and joy of the family.

_She_ was the _center_ of attention.

_She_ was the saviour.

It was her moment.

He wasn't her dream guy.

But it was her dream wedding.

And the girl was neither her sister nor anyone else.

The girl was _her_, for the first time.

She had always thought that she would have to fall in love first to get everything that she wanted, to be happy; yet she had never expected this.

She never thought a mere stranger could give her anything that she had ever dreamt of.

And now, in the midst of helping her daughter dress while interlacing the back of her corset in front of the large baroque-style mirror, she knew that she was once again being saved by a stranger.

The light of the candle sconces on the shelves with tapers in golden tones were accentuating her daughter's lovely body as Petrova pulled even more to tighten the corset to further reduce Hermione's already small waist.

Petrova could see her daughter frown while closing her eyes a bit due to the degree of constriction the underbust corset was giving her; her young breasts inside her chemise being shaped more, bouncing upwards due to the pressure and her stomach being flattened as if there was nothing inside anymore. She knew her daughter really hated wearing the corsets that she had bought for her, but she also knew she would never say it directly to her even if she was already in pain.

She had known the importance of it anyway.

She needed to be more than perfect.

Petrova didn't care if she was in pain.

For all she knew, she must even be thanking her.

If they hadn't taken her from the Grangers years ago then who would she be now?

She wouldn't be as perfect and as beautiful as this.

She would probably just be one of those filthy mudbloods roaming the premises of Hogwarts.

The only son of the Malfoys wouldn't even dream of looking twice at her, let alone touch her, knowing how filthy her blood really was.

But now, look at her.

She was being praised, _worshipped_ even, by Draco Malfoy himself.

Petrova could never be guilty for what they had done. No.

She did all of these for her family but it was undeniable that the girl had received tenfold of its outcome as well.

This really wasn't necessary if her husband hadn't been foolish enough to gamble more than half of their possessions and deliberately losing them all in the process. To make matters worse, he had tried gaining them back by gambling more thus having more debts, finally pulling their family fortune to the ground.

That time in their life was one of the lowest. There was never a day that they never stopped fighting. She blamed him for everything; yet, he blamed her back for not being contented. He told her how much he had seen her discontent in almost everything; that she had always wanted more and the only solution he could think of was to lay bets on their assets to gain more for her.

But clearly everything went wrong and out of hand.

Petrova had even contemplated on running away from that ruined existence. But she knew she just couldn't.

Ansleigh loved her too much. And maybe what he told her was true. He had tried his hardest to give her everything that she wanted, and because he couldn't see her being contented, he had pushed for more until everything had collapsed back at him.

Yet, he just didn't understand, did he?

She could never be contented because he wasn't her choice at the first place; because she never had one.

Deep inside, there was this guilt trying to jab her conscience. Maybe that was why she couldn't leave, or perhaps it was just because she didn't have the choice.

They already had a son that they cherished so much. She couldn't let her child grow up without a father. Perhaps, he was the only bond that connected them besides the fact that they were tied in the union of a sacred wizardry marriage. She was carrying their second child as well and she couldn't possibly get away in such a delicate condition.

It was in that one auspicious night that their lives had been changed forever. A group of men had viciously entered their mansion, claiming to be under the orders of a certain landlord whom Ansleigh was indebted with.

Petrova's husband tried to protect her but to no avail the men had been too aggressive for their subjects. It was in that very second; when one of the men's knuckles had brutally connected into her rounded belly that Petrova knew her beautiful baby girl was gone forever.

Petrova had almost died that night.

She could swear she had her memories replayed back and forth for the very first time. She was so sure it was all over. All she could feel was pain and nothing else.

It was up until she had woken up in that bright sunlit room with her husband worriedly looking down at her that she had taken in everything.

The only thing that she could do was to hold unto him for dear life, knowing too well that their little princess was gone, and she hadn't even taken a glimpse at how pretty she would have looked like, or on how gorgeous she would have become when she would grow older and wear her mother's jewels. None of them would ever know now.

Petrova thought nothing could ever get worse, until she was informed of the implications of what truly happened. The trauma had caused huge damage, not only to her unborn child but to her body as well; almost killing her in the process due to too much of internal bleeding. By that, she needed to undergo hysterectomy, which was a surgical removal of her uterus that rendered her to be unable to bear any children in the future.

This broke her heart completely.

Yet during that day, she couldn't shed a single tear. She didn't know why. She knew she was too distraught to do anything, but she questioned herself greatly of her inability to shed a tear.

She supposed it was because she'd been too numb from any emotion for quite a long while now.

Instead of thinking about her lost daughter, she had even been more worried of the insinuations that would come for not being able to bear a child again.

No matter what they would do, they still had a lot of debts needed to be paid. Genevieve had once told her that the only solution and hope she had was her unborn and only daughter; that she could save them through a fusion with a rich family someday.

But now that she was gone, Petrova didn't honestly know what to do.

What would she and her husband give to their only son someday? More debts? What would happen to him someday? The Pucey Family name was slowly degrading and only a pureblood family lower than their status could accept his proposal seeing that a man's wealth was the very first to be scrutinized by the lady's family.

That was when she had thought about it…

It was a very risky option, both very difficult and scary to behold.

After a series of discussions and arguments with her husband, she had finally been accompanied by him and Genevieve to see Cassandra Vablatsky, a famed and celebrated Seer who lived in a secluded region of Inner Hebrides, an archipelago off the west coast of Scotland.

Cassandra Vablatsky was a very strange woman; yet, seeing her chosen path, Petrova could see why. She had even predicted her own death to be placed inside a Famous Wizard Card, seeing her infinite skill in predicting the future; that was still pretty morose in Petrova's opinion.

That was when they were led to a muggleborn female child currently inside the womb of her muggle mother, and was to be born exactly on the same month Petrova's lost child should have been born.

It was a dark replacement, but it was an impeccable deal.

They couldn't get any luckier.

Sure, the child's blood was impure, but no one would ever know for the fact that she was from the muggle world; a world far less superior and knowledgeable of their own. According to Vablatsky, this child's magical powers could be traced and were descended from a renowned wizard named Hector Dagworth-Granger, who had a Squib relative who married a muggle. Hector Dagworth-Granger was the famous founder of a certain organisation for highly-talented potioneers, which meant that the child might have its ancestor's skills if properly trained.

They searched for this family. They were 'dentists', a term for muggles about 'doctors' for the teeth, so they assumed they could be considered healers as well. They seemed to have a well refined background, judging from their simple but fine-looking English home with beautiful gardens and landscapes around it.

Thomas Andrew and Emma Charlotte Granger were also a good looking couple, Petrova noted this; seeing that looks would very much matter for their child, _her_ child in the future.

Emma had such delicate features. Her smile was alluring as well. The first time Petrova met her, she had almost felt guilty of what she was about to do. Emma was such an innocent woman, so welcoming and gracious, too trustful… but that was what they needed.

It was Tom who had really made her feel more than culpable. He was cheerful and friendly but also a very protective and devoted husband especially that his wife was expecting. He was more than excited than his wife for their coming little angel, as he would always proudly tell them about his plans and that he even made almost all the work in their new nursery, making sure they noted that he made the cot himself as well.

Petrova knew that the innocent couple didn't deserve any of what was to come; yet, she also knew that she couldn't possibly fall out on such a business matter.

It was all carefully planned out. They had gained the full trust of the Grangers, almost as if they'd been part of the family.

And when the time came for the child to be born, it had been so easy.

They were wizards, after all. And what could helpless muggles do to remember nine months of their lives when their very memories were carefully and circumspectly taken away from them?

Ansleigh and Petrova had known almost everything they needed from the couple to alter their necessary memories. They'd known that they'd been married for two years and conceiving hadn't been that easy for them. The couple had shared about their struggles, on how many specialists they've visited for opinions, and on how they tried medical, complementary and alternative treatments for it. And on how it had only been after their vacation in the Boracay Island that a miracle had come.

The couple had been stressed while worrying about it and the doctor advised them to not think about it any longer and just take a vacation, so they did. Little they know that it was all that they needed to have the angel they'd been waiting for so long.

It was very hard for Petrova to concentrate on everything, especially that Ansleigh was about to give up when they talked that night; being eaten out by his guilt, he claimed. But Petrova reminded him of what he'd done and of what it had caused them, so he had no choice but to get on with it. After all, they had lost their daughter mostly because of him and his twisted gambling activities.

Months later, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were living normally, still a happy couple with a false memory of extending another blissful nine months in the white sands of Boracay; never knowing that once in their lives, in those nine months, they'd been expecting a certain daughter whom they were bound to shower with love and adoration… a certain child called Hermione.

Petrova could be called evil by this malevolence, but she was not one to forget of the friendship they shared.

She was thankful, at least.

The Grangers had been nothing but kind to them, so she had to at least give a favour back.

Mrs. Granger had always wanted to name her daughter "Hermione" and who was she to take that away? She had always been fond of reading muggle Greek Mythology while pregnant with Hermione. Perhaps this was the reason why Petrova had come to be fascinated by these works as well and had even allowed Hermione to venture out these books. Her daughter got the name from Princess Hermione of Sparta, the only daughter of Helen of Troy. Princess Hermione was pursued by both Orestes the son of Agamemnon and Neoptolemus the son of Achilles. Neoptolemus was killed by Orestes after he attempted to take Hermione away from his rival… both men with great names, ready to murder each other for the heart of the maiden they love.

Petrova thought it was astonishing on how much the name would perfectly fit the child. She would be grand just as she had planned, pureblood men would have to kill each other just to own her heart.

She would be like Princess Hermione of Sparta, only better, more like her mother, _The_ Helen of Troy herself…

"Narcissa mentioned to me how Draco is trying to postpone his training. Lucius isn't very pleased about this. Have you got something to do with this, Hermione? Are you still trying to dispirit the Malfoy heir from his duties?" Petrova asked her daughter in a serious tone while turning her around to properly see her feature, making sure that any flaw didn't exist.

"You know I've never wanted Draco to partake in such ridiculous things, Mother. But you also know I can't control him," Hermione replied while casually looking down to softly brush her soft tresses.

"Such insolence!" Petrova expressed angrily, making her daughter gasp and look back at her when she squeezed her arms in the process. "Since when did you learn to talk to me that way?"

"I-I was just saying the truth, Mother. I didn't mean to offend you," Hermione stammered, making Petrova be contented for the fear now apparent inside her daughter's delicate honey-coloured eyes. Good. She needed to fear her.

"Well I do not want any complications with my future family, Hermione. Fix this now if you must. Narcissa is getting worried of her son talking to her about this matter. She told me he'd never been vocal about this to her before. He seemed perfectly fine of joining the circle, until you two got engaged and he started on questioning his future in the coming wizarding war," Petrova told her daughter, making her nod while pursing her lips, seemingly trying to stop herself from saying something back.

"Being an engaged lady, it is your duty to encourage and support your fiancé to any of his endeavors, not to feed him lies and make him a coward," Petrova continued, now smoothing her daughter's arms, which were then reddened a little due to the pressure she had given a while ago.

"I-I understand, Mother," Hermione nodded once again, turning around to place her attention on her hair while gently stroking them down. It had been incredibly longer than it should be. She didn't have the decision whether or not to cut it, anyway. All she could do was to wait until her mother would call the family's hairdresser to trim it.

"Very well, get into your evening dress now. I'll be in the dining hall to greet the guests," her mother finally said while sophisticatedly turning around for the door.

"Mother?"

Petrova rolled her eyes in annoyance, albeit turning around to hear her out. "What is it this time?" She asked.

"Have you… have you ever had a muggle friend?"

It was such an impulsive question.

Petrova looked affronted and disgusted by the mere query. It almost made her daughter step back. "Why pose that needless question, may I ask?" She uttered, a gloved hand pressing on her chest lightly as if the tabooed question was worth of a heart attack.

"I was just… wondering. It was a very random thing to have gotten inside my mind," Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mother."

"Silly girl," Petrova rolled her eyes once again. "And to answer your random pointless question, no, I never had one, let alone talk to any of those dirty assemblages." And by that, she turned around once more to walk for the door.

"Mother?"

Petrova didn't hide her annoyance this time and turned around to look at her only daughter with her arms crossed in exasperation, waiting for her to ask her yet another inane question.

"I love you," Hermione uttered, staring at her with her round, childlike eyes.

For a moment there, this had caught Petrova off guard. Until she realized that maybe her daughter was just acting this way because of the whole engagement and all the stressful preparations and social gatherings that came with it.

"Of course, darling. I know," Petrova just nodded while sending her air kisses before finally going out of the room, not noticing the soft tears that had flowed down from her daughter's eyes when she was finally gone.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Whisper" by A Fine Frenzy**

* * *

**Little info:**

**Cassandra Vablatsky - was a renowned and distinguished seer. She's also the author of the Divination textbook required at Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry called "Unfogging the Future". She was born on 1894 and died on 1997 (which she had also predicted). **

**Hector Dagworth-Granger- Founder of **** "****Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers". In the canon, Professor Slughorn had once asked Hermione if she was related to him. Hermione said she wasn't since she was muggleborn. But it was possible that she was since Hermione's closest magical ancestors were probably Squibs who have lost their knowledge of magic along the way. **

**Mr. and Mrs. Granger's names were not stated in the canon so I took the liberty to name them after Thomas Andrew Felton and Emma Charlotte Watson. Haha. I figured I'll just be wasting my time in finding for really good names when I have these perfect two, so there. Plus, I happen to really like their complete names. :) **

* * *

**I'm so sorry. I know I've been such a bad person for not updating for so long. You see, I've been **_**very**_** busy with everything, like really stressed. But as I've said, I won't give up on this story since it's special to me.**

**Sorry it had to be one of those filler chapters though. I just needed to get all the details out before the drama and all that jazz. Anyway, I will work as soon as I can for the next chapter to make it up to you! Thanks again for everything. Please review? God bless :)**

**Love,**

**Sue**


	22. Who Am I

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-two**

"**Who Am I?"**

"What's wrong with my princess?" Draco whispered softly on Hermione's neck. He could see the soft Goosebumps forming along her porcelain skin when he did; making him aware on how much his warm breath amongst the coolness of the night affected her.

It was one of the things he loved about her, about _them_.

He'd known almost everything about her; that little tremble of her lips whenever she was trying not to cry or if she was worried of something, the way she would play or fidget with anything around her, usually her dress, whenever she felt uneasy and shy. Whenever she was excited, her eyes would always light up, forming into these beautiful globes he loved so much. She would wrinkle her nose or pout her lips whenever she was thinking or seeing something she was very curious of. He loved how her cheeks would turn into soft pink petals whenever she was angry or just really shy, the way she would bite her lower lip, making it even rosier, more kissable.

He'd known almost everything about her. How could he not when his very system was programmed to always seek her and be enthralled by her mere presence?

This was one of the reasons why he had snatched her away from the chaotic and harried gathering happening inside the manor. He knew he just needed to when it was obvious she wasn't okay with all the attention given to her.

He couldn't blame the crowd. Her beauty had been like a magnet, spellbindingly pulling every attention of the people around her.

But he knew she was also very uncomfortable in there. The endless questions and praises had been too much, he knew he just needed to pull her with him and get away from everything.

Now they were alone outside. He had them sit on the garden's timeless looking wooden swing, with mortise and tenon joinery and a beautiful pergola top for support. He had pulled Hermione with him to sit on his lap, encircling his arms around her tiny waist and resting his head at the crook of her neck, the little tendrils of hair from her loose updo tickling his cheek in the process.

The evening sky and the reflected lights from the inside were causing modest shimmers on her red taffeta, chiffon and tulle gown. The silky fabric felt like oil on his hands. He liked touching them, he liked touching her.

"Will you promise me that no matter what happens you'll always be with me and that you'll never leave me?" Hermione suddenly whispered. Draco could sense a small crack on her voice, almost as if she was trying not to break down.

"I already promised you that, princess. What's wrong? You don't sound alright," he frowned while gently turning her chin to his direction so he could see her expression.

Hermione just smiled and shook her head softly. "Promise me that you'll never forget this moment, that right now, we're happy; that we love each other."

"Hermione? What's wrong, love?"

"Can you just please promise me, Draco?" She asked, almost pleadingly. Draco couldn't do anything but nod his accord, albeit he didn't really know what was going on inside her head.

Draco thought it was because she was upset that he was finally going tomorrow to spend his summer on training with the circle. This summer was already readied for his training, with only three days spared for him to stay for his engagement. But he knew that she had already known and understood that. He had even tried to postpone it just to spend more time with her. She's still not mad at him for what he did to her brother, was she? Merlin knew he'd already pay for it by _grudgingly _helping him, and even be suspected in the process, although he was really the one who did it at the first place.

Hermione leaned into him more, closing her eyes and turning her head sideways so that her cheek was pressed on his lips. He kissed her cheek tenderly, devotedly, leaving each trail tingling on her skin.

"I love you so much. I have never loved anyone like this before," Hermione spoke softly when she finally opened her eyes to meet his intense but affectionate gaze. The evening light made those specks of grey extra special, more beautiful.

"If this is about my training, I thought we've already talked about this. This is the fate that I was resigned to from the very beginning. _He_ chose _me_. Aren't you proud of me for that?" He asked her softly while tenderly stroking his thumb on the side of her lips.

"You know I've always been proud for the things that you've accomplished, Draco. But this isn't one of it," she told him honestly.

He kissed her cheek, the part where his thumb had caressed. "You know I have no choice," he said.

"You do, Draco. It's just that you choose not to," she countered back while suddenly prying his arms away from her waist as she tried to stand up.

"Hey, hey, princess. Tsk, what's wrong, huh? Tell me," he uttered worriedly while encircling an arm tighter on her waist so she couldn't stand and go, his other hand stroking her bared shoulder in a soothing manner.

"I just—I need to think about some things, Draco," she sighed, still trying to get his arm away from her waist, but Draco just wouldn't have any of it.

"What things? What is wrong here, Hermione? Is there something you want to tell me?" He asked her agitatedly. He had known her enough to know that something was really amiss. He'd known her for years. If something was upsetting her, she'd usually tell him about it or look for him for comfort. This one was unsettling.

"I'm just so scared," she suddenly confessed. The unadulterated fear in her eyes made him even more concerned.

"Tell me why," he whispered softly while gently shifting her body so she could face him. It troubled him to see the unshed tears on her gleaming eyes. He reached out to stroke her face, making sure that there was no sign of hurtful dampness there.

"I'm scared waking up one day, knowing that you can't love me anymore. I don't want that day to come. I love you too much. I don't want to lose you, Draco." Hermione's hand was unconsciously clutching the cloth on his chest, his dinner suit getting ruffled due to the pressure of her trembling hand; yet, he couldn't care less of his dinner suit right now. He just wanted to know if his princess was alright.

"You know that will never happen. I love you, okay? I don't know how that thought even entered your mind; but know this always, you're the only girl I'll ever love," Draco promised before leaning in to kiss her warmly, channeling the feelings flowing out from his very heart to that one kiss filled with his undying pledge. "Close your eyes," he whispered into her lips, still brushing it with his own and kissing her again in the process.

Hermione didn't need to do anything as her eyes were already closed due to the kiss, but she never opened them to obey his order.

She gasped a little when she had finally felt the weight of something cool suddenly adorning her neckline. She could feel Draco's hands locking its end on her nape. His hand then traveled on her neck, to her shoulder and down to her arm and hand. He enveloped her hand on his own and lifted it so she could touch the smoothness of the pear-shaped stone resting in the upper middle of the swell of her breasts. It was smooth, almost slick, cold and heavy. It felt good.

Yet nothing could ever compare on how it felt to how it looked by the time she had finally opened her eyes. She had to gasp again by the time her eyes landed on the pear-shaped diamond. Around it were sparkling teardrop-shaped green lustre and elegance of emeralds. It rendered her speechless.

"Apart from the fact that you were pretty much uneasy in there, the very reason why I actually pulled you out from the gathering was to give you this. It's a family heirloom. Mother told me to give this to you once we get married, but seeing you tonight walking down that stairs and on how perfect you looked; I knew then I couldn't possibly torment this necklace to wait for two years so it could adorn your neck. No one can ever have this. This belongs to you alone and always will," he told her sincerely. His voice was so genuine… _so in love_, it almost made her cry. Was it really possible for this voice to change someday? Was this enough of an assurance that it all sounded so real, so indestructible and resilient?

"What am I to you, Draco?" She asked in a whisper. "Tell me what I really mean to you."

"You're everything to me," he smiled while gently prodding her chin to level his face. "I love you now and I will love you forever, no matter what happens. I promise. Never forget."

* * *

The garden was beautiful that day. The summer flowers were in full bloom. They swayed and radiated with the sunlight. The little dew drops were like diamonds, embellishing the lovely shapes of the shrubberies and blossoms blissfully living in contentment of the season's charm.

Nothing had really changed in this place, maybe not as infinite and as huge as Hermione's little self had thought before, but it was just because she was older now, perhaps it was because she had gone taller to see clearly too.

Yet, nothing had really changed.

She was walking on the same squared stoned blocks of the same mini garden bridge she used to cross before; whilst her sandals didn't fit on the squares of the blocked flooring anymore.

When she was younger, she used to count all those blocks while stepping on them, with each jagged square perfectly fitting her little foot.

She remembered counting. She remembered jumping while doing so. The number was still the same, although she only needed to count with her finger now while pointing on each as she walked, given that her sandals didn't fit any longer.

It used to be so much fun counting them, now she was just counting.

Just counting.

Just counting for the sake of a memory.

Nothing really changed, except her.

She had grown up.

She couldn't really remember how and when. If there was any line to which you'd know you've grown up.

Perhaps it just happened.

It was just the way it should be.

But being in this place made her see once again that this time, she was more than vulnerable to anything she could have been when she was younger.

Kissing Draco one last time when he went away that morning made her feel like she had just said goodbye to the only happiness she ever had.

He had a lot of promises.

He had a lot of plans for the both of them when he would finally come back.

But would he really?

She knew that he didn't know better.

And that hurt.

It was like being in the most beautiful dream, and finally comprehending that it was not real, that it was time to wake up.

Before, she could choose not to care, to run away and hide if she didn't want to face anything. She had good hiding places. She had perfected them when she was younger. Yet they had no use to her now.

This time, she just couldn't do it.

It wasn't that simple anymore.

She couldn't just turn around and not care.

Her younger self would always run into this place and seek for that certain spot in the gazebo to talk to her father, whenever she was upset or if she wanted some answers.

Every afternoon, her father would always sit on his spot at the little quaint marquee for his afternoon tea. No one could really disturb him with this afternoon routine, not even their mother.

But there was never a time in Hermione's memory that he had ignored her every time she would come, sit on his lap and talk to him about her frustrations on how Adrian was being selfish of not letting her ride his broom, on how Nanny Demelza scolded her for not taking her medicine or on how her mother hated her recited poem that day.

He would always stop whatever it was he was doing and listen to her. She would take some of his biscuits and sandwiches, and even taste his tea and giggle after tasting it.

It always made her feel better.

It always made her feel loved.

Right now, it was exactly what she needed.

She smiled when she had finally reached the same spot she had always run into to be her father's little girl.

It was occupied, of course. It always had been.

She had never found her father being absent with his afternoon tea.

He was sitting there, a book on his hand while smoking on his Calabash pipe with meerschaum bowl. An aged, leaf-shaped golden ashtray lay beside his tea and sandwiches on the wooden table together with the unfinished paperwork, just as where they should be.

His head was grey now, his face a little wrinkled through time.

But he dressed the same, wore his glasses the same, sat the same and looked up the same when he saw her; that warm welcoming smile that had always made her feel she was home, that she belonged.

"Ah, how is my little angel?" He smiled warmly as Hermione went and sat beside him. She smiled back as her reply while resting her head on his chest like that of a little girl.

"Do you remember the time when you used to scold me every time I'd climb on those trees?" Hermione started, her voice suddenly cracking a bit. She wasn't ready to let go of this, of what she had. But she knew she needed to.

It's either he didn't notice how her voice wavered or he just kept quiet so he could listen. He didn't say a thing and just quietly nod on the memory.

"I often wondered why it was such a big deal to you. But it was just because you didn't want me to fall and get hurt. I was a bit angry at you for that, but I didn't understand it that time. Now I do," she said while looking up at him.

He smiled and kissed his daughter's head softly. "You will always be my little angel, Hermione. You know that I just want you to be happy and be safe."

"I know that, Father," she nodded, her eyes gleaming with arcane sadness.

There was a long silence, until her father noticed the strange disquietude evident on her soft eyes. "You are grown and in love, but are you truly happy now, my angel?"

"I am, Father. I am very happy. But I just can't be fully happy when I'm not complete," she responded, her voice failing her when it tailed off.

"What do you mean, my child?" He asked her worriedly while placing his pipe down so he could properly see what was bothering his only daughter.

"You're the one who told me that if I needed answers I just have to ask, for stupid, ignorant people never ask questions. And it should always, always be rewarded by pure honesty," Hermione blurted out, her voice shaking but was filled with determination.

"Whatever is it that you want to know?"

Hermione opened her mouth but closed it again. She honestly didn't know what to say.

Could she really do it?

Was she really ready to lose everything to gain a single piece of her that's been missing?

This had been her life.

This was the only thing she had ever known.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Her father looked very worried now while gently wiping the tears that had started to incessantly fall from his daughter's eyes.

"I love you, Father. I really do," she choked. "If you love me then you'll tell me the truth. You'll never lie to me."

By this statement, Ansleigh Pucey's worried expression suddenly turned into fear, something that had even pushed more tears from the girl's eyes when she realised it was just what she had suspected.

Swallowing the lump that had formed from her throat, Hermione urged her trembling hand to slowly take something out from her pocket. It was the muggle photograph she had found in the empty room days ago. She had kept it with her. It gave her a different sense of security; of another level of belongingness she never had all her life, like for the first time she had something that was finally _hers_, something connected to _her_.

"If you love me, you'll tell me. If you love me, you'll let me know. Tell me Father, who are these people? Who are they in my life?"

Her father stood up, a bit unstable while clutching on his chest. Hermione could see the terror and trepidation in his eyes. "H-Hermione, where did you find that?"

"It doesn't matter. I just need to know. Please, Father. Ever since I was young, I tried so hard to bury all these tons of questions inside me; that why do every time I look in the mirror, I have nothing, not even a single similar feature from you and Mother, not even from Adrian. I was so jealous of him and angry at myself for being so different. I often ask myself why every time I look at the three of you, if felt as if I'm supposed to be somewhere else; that I also have _that_, but just not with you," she cried, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I just need to know. Don't I deserve to know the truth?"

"H-Hermione, your Mother and I… we _love_ you," her father faltered, looking almost throttled while he spoke brokenly.

"But not as much as you do with Adrian," she nodded, still crying.

"I-I never—I never thought you would think that, Hermione. We love you both."

"Then if you love me, you'll tell me the truth. Are you—are you my real father?"

It hurt even just to hear herself letting go of that question.

She had often wondered about this feeling of emptiness inside her, like she had always been finding something but didn't know where to look.

She'd been denying it all along.

And it stung to finally face it.

"H-Hermione…"

"P-Please, I just need to know. I know that you're the only one who can help me. I'm begging you, Father," Hermione pleaded, crying harder than she could remember in her life. Everything hurt, she felt like wailing and getting all the feelings out, like a boulder was literally pushed on her chest and neck to constrict her breathing. All the confusion, uncertainty and doubt all these years had come crashing back to her like a tidal wave, suffocating and drowning her.

She wanted him to say yes, that he was her real father, and that she was just being delusional for ever thinking otherwise.

But she knew it was too late to be ever considered as reality.

He looked conflicted, afraid. It took him too long to ever answer and deny her allegations.

He had a secret.

And that hurt like hell.

Because she knew she was right.

"H-Hermione… angel, forgive us. We were desperate, please forgive us," his father begged, breaking down while clutching on his chest. He was shaking his head. In guilt? In wretchedness? Perhaps both.

Hermione had already known. Her heart had already known. But hearing it was so much different. It was like finally confirming that you were lied to, that you were fooled through the years and that along the way, you had ignored all the signs; that you allowed yourself to be stupid… because you had _nowhere_ to go. Because you had no identity. Because you had no home. She felt like an empty hole in the ground. Fooled. Deceived. Alone.

"How could you do this to me?" She whispered, feeling her world spin, as if betrayal had finally caught up with its own form just to face and mock her.

"We were desperate, Hermione. Your mother couldn't bear a child after Adrian. We needed a daughter and you came along. We needed you and so we... took you from your real parents. But we love you. Please, my little angel. The truth will never taper the love we have for you. This is your family. _We_ are your family. Nothing changes anything," her father pleaded her while beseechingly cupping his daughter's tearstained cheeks. "You're still my daughter no matter what."

"You _needed_ a _daughter_?" She cried while prying her father's hands away, something she had never thought she could ever do before. "So it's really true then, huh? The rumours are true about our family having debts and how luck came to our family to have been chosen by the Malfoys to fuse with them. You didn't just lie to me! You _used_ me! How can you do this to me? All my life I strived hard just for you and Mother's approval! I tried to do _everything_ because I love you! I just wanted your love but it turns out you can never do because you just _needed_ me to save your family!"

"H-Hermione! Please, it's not like that. It's not like that at all," her father begged while scooping the crying girl into his arms. "We love you. Please don't think that we don't. You're still our daughter, you will always be."

Hermione couldn't do anything. She couldn't move. She was too angry, too frustrated, too distressed. All she could do was cry. Cry because she was pitiable, because she was _no one_.

"Who am I?" She suddenly whispered through broken tears.

Silence… Stillness… It wasn't what she needed.

She needed an answer.

"Who am I, Father? Who really am I?"

"Y-You are… Hermione _Granger_."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! I know it's been very angsty, but it was expected from the start. :( What will Draco do when he comes back? Stay tune! **

**Have a good day, you guys. God bless. **

**Song for this chapter: "What Am I to You" by Norah Jones**


	23. He was Her World

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-three**

**"He was Her World"**

**Pucey Family Manor, England**

**August 24, 1996**

Adrian slightly winced as he heard another valuable bud vase being thrown across the room. He could even guarantee that if this would go on for a few more hours, the manor would seriously suffer in serious austerity. He didn't even know if his mother was crying because of the situation or because of the costly heirlooms being shattered here and there.

"Take her back! I don't believe all the bullshit you're giving me;" came yet another roar from Draco Malfoy.

"Draco, please…"

Another crash.

"Draco, darling, please calm down." Adrian heard Narcissa's anxious voice while rushing towards his unmistakably frazzled but fuming son.

Adrian could empathize with him without doubt this time. Who wouldn't look as feral and incensed like this when you'd been gone for almost two months, almost killing yourself for a brighter and safer future you've prepared for your fiancée, only to go back and find out that your engagement was already annulled?

The last months had been very stressful to the Pucey family.

It was the end of the entire pretense.

Once Hermione had finally found out about her real identity, she hadn't stopped begging them to take her back to them, to the strangers she didn't even know had existed in her entire sixteen years.

And last thing he knew… he had no sister any longer.

At first, their–_his_–mother just wouldn't have any of it. She could have even dragged Hermione into the dungeons and imprison her there until she could ensure of the bond with the Malfoys if she could help it. She had called her an _ungrateful slut_, accusing her of not exhibiting any appreciation for everything that they had done for her.

She didn't want Hermione to go.

She just couldn't let go of her.

She really wouldn't miss her. No.

She would miss the money.

The Malfoys had already given so much for the Pucey Family, even paying almost half of their debts already even if Draco and Hermione were not even married yet.

She would miss the beautiful, ample amount of generosity. And that just wouldn't do, would it?

Yet it was in that very moment when her hand was about to connect with Hermione's tear-stricken face that Adrian knew he had to do something. He didn't know what forced him to do it, but he had ran in between them and tightly gripped his mother's hand in the air, too tightly actually that he had almost cause a bruise to emerge from her pale slender hands.

To say that his mother was shock was an understatement. She was rendered speechless and was bolt from the blue. He had one way or another even saw her almost stoic expression, trying to hide the shock or maybe the hurt nearly evident on her face.

He had _never_ done such a thing to his mother, but he knew he could never allow anyone to hurt Hermione. He cared for her; loved her even. And by seeing her there, lost and being practically insulted by the mother she had known and desperately _loved_ all her life was just too much for him. It surprised him just how much he really could do for Hermione. He knew the length of his affection for her, but it still stunned him that he could do that to his own mother just for her sake.

It petrified him even, that the mere thought of Hermione knowing that he wasn't her real brother was giving him an indication of hope that it might change something…

He knew that if there was something he should feel then it should be grief and sorrow for the loss of his sister. But one way or another, he couldn't help but think of certain… possibilities now that she knew they were not related at all.

He wanted to beat himself for thinking of things like that under this circumstance.

But he just couldn't stop his heart from feeling anything different. Wouldn't it be easier to choose the person you want to love? It would lessen the hurt… But the world was just made to be complicated. Not having any choice wasn't a problem really, there were too many choices in this world for that to matter. It was just the difficulty of having to choose the right but harder one.

But now, fate seemed to travel in the wrong direction for everyone but in the right way for him.

Hermione had been devastated and she had come to rely on the comfort he had offered. She didn't trust anyone anymore, but he had at least given her an assurance that he would take her back to her real parents if that was what she really wanted.

With Draco temporarily out of the picture, he knew it was up to him to take care of her. He wasn't taking advantage, no. He was just doing what he could do for her.

He had a long talk with his father, pleading him to give on Hermione's request. She wasn't happy in here anymore, he knew. Night and day she would cry inside her room, knowing that the mansion was warded so she couldn't get away. Lady Petrova knew the length of humiliation that would ensue once these would all go out. She just couldn't let it happen.

It was in that momentous night that Ansleigh Pucey had suddenly stood his ground in the matter. They were having a quiet but tensed dinner. Hermione was still locked inside her room, with only the house elves apparating to serve her meals. Even Nanny Demelza wasn't allowed to see her. The strained silence ensuing in the place was suddenly broken by his father's utensils clanking on his plate when he threw them off, finally tired of all the charade and deceitfulness of the situation.

Adrian had looked up from his plate, aware of the tension. Lady Petrova never did, however. She just continued on delicately slicing her jamón ibérico de bellota. It was still a fine, normal Pucey Family dinner for her.

It was only when Ansleigh Pucey had stood up while firmly pounding his palms into the huge wooden table when she had finally looked up, looking annoyed more than anything. _Nobody_ ruins her dinner.

They had the most massive verbal fight that night; their screams resounding over the huge and lonely mansion.

Adrian was just seated there, looking at them like a spectator inside a theater. If he was younger, it would have terrified him. Yet, right then he was just happy that his father had finally found his voice.

By then, it was final.

Hermione would finally see her biological parents.

It was quite a scandal.

There was never a day that the press was absent outside the mansion's gate.

The Malfoys were outraged and offended in the fact that they had allowed their only heir to be engaged with a _mudblood_. It was unforgivable. They had immediately taken legal actions and now the Pucey Family was left with nothing but more debts and a filthy stain in the name that was left of them.

The curse was finally lifted from the Grangers. It was a very difficult process. The fake memories that were plastered in them had been there for far too long that they were almost made permanent. The Ministry of Magic even needed to hire experts to help lift the enchantment. The Grangers had even gone unconscious throughout the intricate process. It was better; otherwise it would have been a torture regaining back those memories with consciousness.

When the Grangers finally gained perception, they were met by the Ministry's delegations to explain to them everything. There were a lot of tears when they had finally met Hermione, knowing that all their life, that single lacking part they had felt was finally given back to them.

The Ministry assured to support them in whatever it was they would need, apologizing for the harsh and insensate actions by the Pucey Family who was then facing heavy litigations from the Ministry in the moment for the serious case they've done.

Everything that had happened for just months felt like it had been a lifetime. But Draco wasn't even informed about everything. His training couldn't be disturbed. So Adrian couldn't really blame him for acting this way.

He had changed a lot after those months of secrecy. Adrian couldn't put his finger on it but his aura was just too different… darker.

Adrian reckoned being with you-know-who and playing his apprentice could really give you that effect.

It wasn't just his physical state that had drastically changed.

It was everything.

And right now, he looked as if he could commit homicide as he paced to and fro inside the room like a scary raging lunatic.

"Where is she? Where is Hermione?" He shouted for the umpteenth time. His shirt was sticking on his soaked skin now, his forehead dripping in cold sweat and his hair ruffled as if someone had just beleaguered him to death.

"She's at her real parents now, Draco," Adrian suddenly uttered, cutting the unformed tensed reason of Narcissa Malfoy. "She's not like us. She's a muggleborn. This is not her world. And she didn't want to be here anymore."

"I-I don't believe you. She's not what you think you're saying! She's perfect. She excels in everything she does. She's beautiful. She has more powers than any of the bloody witches and wizards in our fucking age! S-She can't be a…a m-mudblood," Draco shook his head frantically while stepping towards the wall to support his trembling body. Adrian could see the great denial and conflict in his tortured eyes.

"If you want to see her, then you'll believe me."

* * *

Hermione beamed while looking at her cat, Crookshanks, which seemed to have been enjoying on playing with its new colourful yarns. Her mum bought it yesterday while they were out shopping together at the mall.

It seemed odd, almost illusory, when just months before, with her life already carefully planned for her, she had never thought she could even be allowed to step inside the muggle world even once. Now she was actually _living_ in it.

Living in the muggle world wasn't all that bad as the people in her past had always pointed out. She had a high regard for what these people had done to simplify their tasks without using any magic. She guessed that when you were on a certain position in which you didn't have the easier way, you have to become ingenious and inventive in some ways, and that would make you better, stronger.

It had been a very difficult transition for Hermione. She had always been ardent to learn the ways of these people but experiencing such things was so much more different than just secretly reading them in books. Like the telly, for example, she still could never get over the fact on how astonishing it was. It was like a floo network, only you get to be the third person and eavesdrop on whatever it was they were talking. She had read somewhere that the people inside were just actors trying to play the part for entertainment purposes, like in theaters, only it was broadcasted by a muggle device called satellites. How the muggles were able to place the muggle devices on space without using any magic was beyond her. She supposed she needed to research more about it. It was incredible, really. She didn't know where to start.

The first weeks had been pretty complex for her as well. She could see the amount of pressure and apprehension that her real parents were experiencing. They were still in the process of taking in everything, especially being just taken away from the false memory they had gotten so well for years. But she could also see the effort and exertion they were giving for her to accept them. They did almost everything just for her comfort and to please her, even to the point of being too obvious with their anxiousness that she might not like them.

The feeling was… different.

So this was what would have felt like to be the recipient of hard work to gain ones love, for being the center of attention for once.

All her life she had worked so hard to gain such attention and love. Now, she didn't even have to do anything. She didn't even have to say anything. Sometimes, she would wake up in the morning with a gentle caress on her hair. She would open her eyes and see her mum smiling at her. She looked beautiful even with those little tears adorning her face.

And she looked like her...

She was _home_.

Hermione would ask her what's wrong, but she would just shake her head, kiss her cheek gently and ask her to get up for breakfast. She would always cook for her. Hermione thought it was amazing, since her mothe—Lady Petrova couldn't even do it even with magic.

Once, her dad asked her of her favourite dishes. She thought it was just one of their trivial questions again for getting to know her. Having been raised in the presence of her French Aunt, and in the Palace of Beauxbatons, she had enumerated some of her favourite French dishes like the hearty fish stew bouillabaisse, croque-monsieuris ham and melted cheese on a croissant and her favourite desserts tarte tartin, soupe de fraises, ile flotant, crème brûlée and mousse au chocolat. The following day, she was surprised that all of it was served in front of her in their dining room. It was like a feast. She couldn't do or say anything but suddenly run into her parents, embracing them so hard that she was sure she had knocked their breaths away for a while. Then they cried and laugh at the same time. It was… refreshing.

Her parents would also take time and listen to her stories, about her life, her school and her magic. They seemed very eager to get to know her. She had also told them about Draco... leaving out the few details of them getting betrothed and how it was negated because of her blood and the prejudice revolving around the world she had grown up.

Draco's training was too concealed and intense that he was being isolated from anything in the course of time. Hermione knew it was going to be a big shock to him once he was done and would finally discover her real identity.

But she just had too much faith in him… She couldn't help but be hopeful of the fact that he might accept her for who she was, because he loved her.

"_I'll never let anyone hurt you, princess. We're a team now, okay? Me and you; I'll always be with you whatever happens.__Nothing__will change that. I promise"_

_"You're everything to me. I love you now and I will love you forever, no matter what happens. I promise. Never forget."_

She could feel her hand gently snaking around the hard stone of diamond resting in the middle of her chest. It didn't help to will her heart away from resounding so loudly inside her shirt. She wanted so hard to believe in him, in _them_. But she had also known Draco. All his life, he had devotedly believed in the chauvinism of this world. He even belonged in the circle now. He was one of those who wanted muggles and muggleborns to disappear in the world. How could he love her when he was trained to kill her?

A knock on the door had temporarily interrupted Hermione's trance. Crookshanks meowed and stretched before sluggishly strutting over the door, gently scratching it to tell her master that someone was on the other side.

Hermione sighed, gently getting up from her current position on the round cushion beside her window. It was just probably her mum checking up on her again. She had never failed to ask her of anything she needed every time she was done with the clinic, or whenever she just have the time to do so. Hermione was still a bit uncomfortable on using the phone, seeing that the voices in it would sound odd and it was really weird to be talking to a device without looking at the actual person. She had voiced this out to them before, and they were very considerate enough to not use it if they could help it.

This was just one of the reasons why no matter what, she would fight to stay with her biological parents. It seemed as if her parents in the past whom she had spent time with all her life was more like strangers to her than these people who had only been with her for months. They cared for her. They truly wanted her here not just because they needed something from her but because she was important, because they loved her.

"I'm coming, mum," she smiled while pacing towards the door. _Mum_. She liked calling her that. She was greeted by her warm smile. That smile was her home, she knew.

"Hermione, dear, you have visitors. Adrian is here," her mother informed her. "And Draco," she added.

The feeling by the time her mother had uttered the last words was too surreal to even be described. It was like someone just pounded her chest with a dulled, rounded hammer. That strange sensation traveled down her body like she had just gotten stupefied with euphoric electric bolts. Her extremities felt like being numbed by ice packs, and she was sure she had blacked out for a millisecond due to the nauseated feeling on her gut, feeling sick all of a sudden.

"Are you okay, honey?"

"Y-Yeah, mum. I'm fine," she struggled while composing herself. She didn't even know how the hell she had even heard her mother's voice with all the pounding going on inside her chest.

"That Draco of yours is a handsome chap, a bit serious looking, but you've described him so well," her mum mentioned as they went down the stairs. Her voice sounded muffled and odd on Hermione's tensed senses. She was sure her veins were rallying all over her body, compensating on the over pumping of her heart. She couldn't concentrate on anything.

By the time she had gone down, sure enough, Draco Malfoy was there.

But he looked too different than she remembered. It was like those two months had been years. He looked older than his age now. He had also gone taller, or maybe it was just because of the broader chest and more masculine arms he had gained through his training course. He was also paler and had faint dark circles under his eyes.

But it wasn't just that. It was the fact that his face looked statuette, almost like he was trying not to breathe, or maybe he wasn't breathing at all. Everything seemed strained. He was seated very stiffly. His back wasn't even touching the backrest of the sofa, as if it would kill him if he did recline on it.

It looked like he was… disgusted.

Adrian was the very first to destroy the silence while standing up to meet and embrace her. "How are you?" He asked her while cupping her cheeks gently.

"I'm okay, Adrian. Everything is fine," she answered, though she wasn't looking at him. Her full attention was on the rigid blonde who hadn't moved a single muscle.

"D-Draco?" She stammered, stepping a little nearer to him. He stood up, but didn't look back at her. She was suddenly afraid to touch him.

"How true is this?" He suddenly asked her firmly, still looking on the floor as if he could destroy it by his mere stare, not that it wasn't possible now. He sounded cold; too cold that she almost thought he wasn't real.

"What do you mean _this_? This is my life, Draco. This is the real me," she answered, sounding accusatory and disappointed at the same time. He had promised her, after all, that he would love her no matter what. Had he simply forgotten? Or he really couldn't from the start? Did she really expect too much?

She had missed him so much. All that she really wanted to do was to embrace him. But she was scared to be pushed away.

She had been under a great stress for the last months and the only thing that was keeping her together was his promise; that he would go back and make everything okay. She knew it was as crazy as it sounded knowing how Draco was. But he had always been different when it came to her. He loved her. _They loved each other_. And she believed in that. She would always believe in that just as long as he did as well.

"How fucking true is this?" Draco suddenly erupted. His once pale cheeks were now tainted with an angry flush. He was trembling, and sweat was forming from his forehead, almost as if he was trying to stop himself from cursing anything into oblivion.

"T-This is _me_, Draco. This is my home. This is my mum," she told him softly while gently pulling her mother towards her. "She's a dentist, as well as my dad. He's not here yet but he will be once he was done with his appointments for the day. They are healers of teeth, a muggle profession. They are muggles and they love me. I'm a muggleborn, Draco. But I am still _me_. I'm still _Hermione_. I will always be," she told him, almost choking from the lump on her throat.

He didn't say anything.

He didn't do anything.

He just stood there.

His face was overwrought and tensed, almost as if he was a morphed stone.

But it was his stare that done her.

He was staring at her like she was an abomination.

And it stung. It stung so hard she was sure she could melt in agony and woe.

"You told me you'll never leave me," she whispered brokenly. She was crying now. She wasn't prepared for this. Someone could have killed her right then and there and she would accept it wholeheartedly just as long as she could erase the disgusted expression on his face. "You _promised_ me, Draco…"

In that moment, Hermione could swear she was prepared to kneel down in front of him just to stop him from leaving. But she couldn't move. She had never felt as low as this and she didn't know what to counter to that.

He was looking at her like she was… dirty_. A mudblood_. That was what she was in his eyes now.

And then, he suddenly threw up.

Right in front of Adrian. Right in front of her own mother. Right in front of _her_.

Being in that moment, she was even surprised she was still standing when everything just hurt like hell. When you have finally known that the only guy you had ever loved had never really loved you truly, that he was basing your character just because of your race, that he had meant every promise he made only at _that_ time, when he knew you to be another person; to be the one fulfilling his standards. It was like being stabbed to the bone with the knife being twisted in the process; that excruciating, agonizing feeling on your heart and gut that had almost felt like it could swallow you alive. Dying was even better than this feeling. She felt being broken into nothingness.

He was her world.

He could make or break everything that she was.

And now he just showed her that she was less than nothing. He was disgusted of her. He did more than just break her. He had killed her.

She cried into her mother's arms as Draco hastily wiped the side of his lips with the back of his hand. He had turned around and ran into the door, crashing a glass vase when he stumbled for a bit; its pieces slicing his palms while he struggled to stand and run gauchely outside, not bothering to take the broken bloodied pieces of the glass from his torn skin.

When the door slammed, Hermione knew it was all over.

He was gone together with her past.

_"Please don't cry, Mione. I promise you, we'll still see each other again," little Draco told her softly while brushing off the fat tears rolling down her cheeks._

_"Promise me we'll still play under the rain even if we're already older and boring. Promise me you'll still let me ride on your back even if I get heavier. Promise me you'll always be my prince. Promise me we'll always be together, Draco," she sniffed while leaning into him. "Even if I'll have a different school, please promise me you won't forget about me."_

_"I promise, Mione. We'll always be together. You're my only princess," he nodded, looking as if he was going to cry._

_"Pinky swear?" She asked him._

_"Pinky swear," he smiled while interlacing his finger with hers._

_Hermione smiled at him… her big brown eyes looking up at him with so much innocence and beauty. And then… he suddenly bent forward and pressed his lips into hers._

_It was a very chaste kiss, but still…a kiss._

_Their first kiss…_

He was the only boy she had ever loved.

He was her first in everything and she had promised herself that it would stay that way.

_"What will happen to me without you?" She whispered._

_"You'll never know because I'll never ever let you go. I will never let that happen. I'd have to kill first before I do that."_

_"Promise me we'll stay like this, Draco. Promise me this won't change. Promise me this is forever," she whispered, feeling him turn her and adjust her a little so that she was situated on his stomach, her legs straddling both his sides. She was now clinging into him like that of a spider with her soaked nightgown and robe deliciously hiked up leaving her bare legs in perfect view._

_"I promise you. I'll give you the world, Hermione. You'll always be my princess. I won't let anything happen to you. You're mine and you'll always be. You've always been mine," he whispered before finally capturing her lips with his own into a deep, passionate kiss._

She had always thought it would remain forever.

That no matter how hard or difficult the situation was it would always be okay since they had each other anyway. She had believed too much in him. She had believed too much, forgetting to leave something for herself in the process.

Now he had taken everything…

Every memory, every laughter, every tear… everything was nothing now; because they never truly happened. Draco Malfoy was never in love with Hermione Granger. He was in love with the perfect, pureblood Hermione Pucey, and she never really existed and never would any longer.

She was a fraud, but so was their love.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Skyscraper" by Demi Lovato, this is honestly one of the most sincere, genuine, hurtful songs I've ever heard.**

* * *

**I know you guys hate me so badly now, but I have my reasons. For the meantime, I shall hide myself inside my cupboard.**

**Go on and bash me on my reviews. I deserve it. Haha.**

**God bless, Sue :)**


	24. Summer is Over When the Leaves Fall

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-four**

"**Summer is Over When the Leaves Fall"**

* * *

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Scotland, October 1996**

"Alihotsy Draught is a potion made from the Alihotsy plant. Drinking it or inhaling its fumes induces hysteria," Hermione repeated her last sentence when she saw Ginny frown a bit.

"Is that the one being cured by the treacle produced by the Glumbumble?" The younger girl asked while unconsciously biting the tip of her nail while musing on her new discovery.

Hermione nodded. "The treacle also induces melancholy. But the Glumbumble insects infest beehives, which is not good and is a bit disastrous for the honey being produced," she said while gently taking the girl's hand away from her lips, discreetly reminding her to stop her unbecoming hobby of biting her nails. Ginny hated that habit since it ruined her nails and was always grateful for Hermione in being the one to remind her that she was doing it again.

"Thanks," she muttered sheepishly before scribbling on her notes.

This was just one of Hermione's typical weeknights at Hogwarts after serving her nightly prefect patrols. Ginny would always wait for her so they could study together. Sometimes, Ron and Harry would also join them. She was always happy to help them knowing that they could sometimes be a little behind with their studies due to their Quidditch practices.

This had been her life now; simpler and incredibly different from her ostentatious years back in the Palace of Beauxbatons. Back there, she needed to be everything perfect. She could never be normal when everyone needed to be more than one or else they get left behind. Everyone was expected to be not just good on something, but best on it. She had strived so hard to take those spots to comply on what was expected of her.

Now, she didn't need to do anything but to just be herself.

In there, normalcy meant being perfect.

In here, normalcy meant being _you_.

The moment she got the termination letter from her past school in which she had learned to love and be incredibly loyal with, she knew that she needed to move on with her new life.

The following day, she was visited by Professor McGonagall of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, informing her that she was indeed listed with the muggleborn students to receive their letters when they were eleven, only it was masked away by a certain enchantment. They never really took in the depth of it since the list that was pointing the name into was on the only daughter of the Pucey Family, who was undoubtedly a pureblood family and this child had legitimately already been admitted to the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Professor McGonagall talked to her real parents and asked Hermione for forgiveness on delivering the letter very late.

Hermione understood and told her that it really wasn't their fault. It was fate that had played on them and they needed not to linger upon the past any longer. The older lady praised her and welcomed her warmly to her new school because of that. A few days before the opening of class, Hermione was taken into the Headmaster's office to be sorted by the sorting hat, taking into consideration that she would already be in sixth year and didn't need to have the same introduction as the first years in the welcoming feast.

Professor McGonagall was more than happy to know that she was sorted to the Gryffindor house. She was even appointed as one of the prefects for the year seeing that she was already one at her former school and had incredibly astounding records.

She could even remember Madame Olympe Maxime on the older lady, on how her Headmistress had always commended her in everything, and who loved and cared for her as if she was her own daughter.

Now, it was even her own Headmistress who had sent her the termination letter. The letter was plain and very businesslike. It hurt her somehow; that the Headmistress she had looked up to could forget and change her views about her that way just because her roots weren't what she had projected her to have.

But she had already expected it from the start.

The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was a place founded for pureblood supremacy. It had always been unyielding in its views of the preeminence of blood status. She could never be one of them anymore. She was a deception. She was the outcast now.

It was amazing that even some of her friends whom she thought would always be there for her had also turned their backs on her, except for a few like Fleur Delacour who had told her that she was always welcome whenever she could visit. She knew Fleur was just trying to make it all sound better, knowing that she had always considered Hermione as her younger sister. But Hermione knew she could never step a single foot in the Palace grounds that she had grown up any longer.

It was paradoxical when one moment, people would look up at you and praise you for everything you do, and then in another, they would spit on your way and never dare to look at you; when in truth nothing really changed. She was still _Hermione_. She was still the girl they had befriended with, practiced spells with, ate with and enjoyed everything with. Were people really made to be that shallow? Or was this just one example of the unfairness of the world?

Adrian accompanied her at Hogwarts for her private sorting ceremony. He had even told her that he would understand if she didn't want to be in Slytherin just like he was. He just graduated and he was aware of her still broken heart and the issue that she had to be with Draco in her new school as well. She was very grateful that even if a lot of people had turned their backs on her, Adrian was still there for her. He promised her that he would once in a while check on her whenever he could. He got the spot of being in the reserve team for _The Ballycastle Bats_, the second most successful team in the British and Irish Quidditch League so he would be travelling a lot; but Hermione knew he would always be true to his promise.

Hermione thought it would be very hard for her to adjust on her new school that Adrian wouldn't be there anymore, especially that the last time that she was there, she was always with Draco and her world was often limited to be that of his side of the circle alone.

At the opening of the school year, there were some students around the castle who had looked at her from afar; some were looking at her with pity, some with unfair judgments. Her past Slytherin so-called girl friends, Pansy, Daphne and Tracey had stared at her as if she was the biggest sham in the face of the planet. She was this filthy, unworthy girl who had been incredibly lucky for being able to be one of them for a while. Now she was _nothing_.

Yet being sorted into Gryffindor had proven otherwise. Her Gryffindor housemates had accepted her with open arms. The house was mixed with different groups of bloodlines and everyone had their own identities for any bigotry to matter.

Ginny had been so happy and excited upon knowing that Hermione would be her new housemate and even roommate as well. She had even offered her to go with their school supplies shopping at Diagon Alley with her family days before the opening of the school year. Hermione had finally met the Weasleys, who were incredibly friendly and warm to her, especially Mrs. Weasley. Harry was also there with them. He was such a gentleman and was so easy to talk with. They had chatted a lot more that day than anyone else in the group seeing that they were both being 'adopted for the day' by this wonderful family. She liked him very much and had felt so light being with him. She knew then that they were going to be really good friends.

Hermione wanted to strike a few conversations with Ron as well, but he was always stuttering something incomprehensible before going away and being busy with something. Ginny told her it was because he had a huge crush on her even before. Hermione chuckled and blushed at the same time as Ginny spilled out her own brother's secrets to her, feeling guilty for letting his own sister talk to him behind his back but deciding she wanted to hear them anyway.

Ron was poking on some quills at one of the store's sections as Hermione studied his innocent face from the corner where Ginny was whispering at her. He was scrunching his nose as he opted to get one of the quills on the stack, trying it on the blank parchment before looking for another one, not noticing just how the two girls were whispering and giggling at each other at his expense.

Hermione thought he was pretty cute even before and was exceedingly flattered by the new revelation. But she was with Draco at that time and she couldn't…

She had to close her eyes and excuse herself for a while when her mind had ventured on that particular forbidden area again.

The wounds were still unbelievably fresh and perhaps it would never mend, maybe it would with luck someday, but it would always plaster a scar. Her heart would never be the same again.

She guessed it had to be that way. She could never smile forever, none of us could. Once in a while, there will always be tears. Summer will always be over when the leaves fall and every bird would have to fly away to catch its preferred season, abandoning the once loved place that almost felt like its home forever.

Nothing could really stay the same, capturing an early bird's heart wouldn't only be wrong, but it would always be painful when it needed to go away, to fly into the place where it belonged. And it could never stay on the ground just the way you needed to. Because he had to fly and you needed to stay, because you didn't belong in each others' worlds at the first place.

She had prepared herself for everything.

She had known from the start the consequences that would happen and the things that she would lose.

She had expected and prepared herself for everything, except her first love's rejection.

When you thought that when you finally had that stray creature on your palms, that he would always stay with you, that opening your palms into the sky wouldn't make a difference because he had promised to be with you; it just hurt a lot that in the right season he still needed to go and you had no choice but to cry into the skies he had disappeared into.

You had no choice but to let go, because you had _nothing to hold on into_.

Now _that_… that was hardest part.

Especially when you cry yourself almost every night, trying to let every tear flow out before the sun rises, so that when you see him the next day, no more tears were left to be shed, just to at least spare the little amount of self-respect left of you. You were finally free to hide the hurt that you feel. You could finally act like you were braver than what he had given you credit for.

Especially when everything was too much of a struggle for you, but just too easy for him…

Draco Malfoy was engaged to Astoria Greengrass now, though Hermione could tell he wasn't the one who had chosen her at any rate judging by how he would treat her.

Hermione would sometimes be sorry for the girl, as her fiancé was very blatant in displaying his new girlfriends everywhere. His latest on and off girl was Pansy Parkinson. Draco seemed to be a bit taken with her because she was the only one who could tolerate his dark disposition now, almost as if they suddenly shared a certain secret. Hermione had watched him from afar and it seemed like he had always been preoccupied of something. The dark quality around his feature was becoming more and more obvious each day, like this dark secret was eating him bit by bit. And it was always Pansy who would comfort him.

He would walk Astoria around sometimes, especially when Professor Snape was there. He was his godfather after all; perhaps he was trying to be safe around his parents' eyes. The younger girl loved showering him with gifts, in which he would accept and appreciate sometimes. One time, Hermione saw Astoria giving him some new expensive Quidditch keeping gloves and Broom Compass. He seemed delighted by them and had even given her a small peck on the cheek. When he went away, Astoria had giggled and jumped around merrily, almost as if she was the luckiest girl alive… feeling what Hermione had felt a long time ago.

Hermione had to close her eyes and hold on her Gryffindor necktie to stop herself from reclining down the stony ground as she stayed there on one of the hallway columns she was hiding. She couldn't help but get jealous although she knew she wasn't in the position to do so anymore. She wasn't his fiancée any longer. It wasn't her place. She was just _the mudblood_ for him now.

She didn't even know if he even thought she still existed. He wasn't tormenting her like his housemates would. He wasn't looking at her out of pity like the others would do, even. He just _never_ looked at her, _never_ talked to her, and_ never_ even had a single glimpse every time they would pass each other at the Great Hall. Every time she would think he would, it was only because his eyes needed to pass hers so he could look somewhere, like she was this nonexistent ghost, like she was _nothing_.

Maybe she was.

Maybe she wasn't.

But for him, it was neither.

Perhaps for him, she was more than that.

She was_ more _than nothing.

* * *

Hermione was trying to suck in some of the air that was left in the place but she just couldn't get enough, as ironic as it would sound.

It had been the second night that she needed to patrol the hallways with Draco Malfoy.

They had never been partnered before. There were approximately six prefects per house and twenty-four prefects in the entire school. Each night, groups of four were made to be shiftmates to roam certain assigned hallways. She was lucky enough to dodge away from a strained schedule with Draco Malfoy. Now they were _shiftmates_ for the _whole month._

The feeling she had by the time she saw the new patrolling schedules was unexplainable. That strange sore pounding from her heart to her stomach had made her nauseated; especially that she wasn't just scheduled to be patrolling the corridors with Draco Malfoy but with Pansy Parkinson as well. They were scheduled together with Ravenclaw's Padma Patil.

The first night, Hermione had barely saw Draco and Pansy as they seemed to have disappeared by the time the introductions and checking of attendance were done. They were all aware that one should have a partner when patrolling for safety purposes and Draco demanded that he wanted to be partnered with Pansy the whole month, not even bothering to look twice at Hermione when Padma offered that both Slytherins shouldn't be placed together since it would be unfair if they would see their own housemates breaking rules and wouldn't do a thing about it. Draco had countered her with a condescending tone, telling her that Pansy and he were capable enough of maturely judging for themselves, adding some colourful insults to Padma. Hermione knew it was absurd, but she was jealous that even in a negative way, Draco had shown that he was aware of Padma's presence by insulting her. But as usual, Hermione was nothing. She was just too invisible for him to matter and look into. A small insult if given to her would be just a waste of time, like she wasn't worth it because she wasn't worth _anything_.

The first night went on just fine, as Hermione had barely seen them. Padma Patil was a good companion. She was very responsible and smart, and they have discussed a lot of things while they were patrolling. She was her housemate's Parvatil Patil's twin sister but they seemed to have very different mind-sets. Parvati liked to talk about herself more and was rather loud all the time, especially when she was with her best friend, Lavender Brown. Padma, however, was very judicious and modest. She liked to debate and talk about logical topics.

When the patrolling was over, Pansy and Draco never came back. It was said that they both headed for the Prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor after their duty. Hermione had to turn around and stay as far away from the place after that.

Now, it was only the second day but she was already hyperventilating like a sick asthmatic child.

Pansy, Draco and she were still standing on a certain corner, waiting for Padma to arrive. Padma was incredibly late and the other two couldn't start their patrol without ensuring that the other had a partner as it was stated clearly with the rules.

Pansy was getting more and more infuriated as the time went by, muttering how Padma could be so irresponsible and on how they should just go and leave Hermione to wait for her partner herself.

Draco was just standing there, a hand on his pocket, the other hidden on the wall he was reclining with his lower back. He didn't have any expression at all. He didn't say no at Pansy's suggestion, but he didn't walk away either.

"Granger, honestly. Your partner needs to know the value of what we call _time_. She's an hour late for goodness' sake! We've wasted an _hour_, standing here and doing nothing!" Pansy stomped her foot as she berated Hermione, as if the entire situation was all her fault.

"She said she was coming, okay? She didn't mention anything or if she was going to be not in attendance for the rounds," Hermione explained, annoyed of Pansy's whining. How and why Draco looked so calm just standing there with his so-called _girlfriend_, shrieking like someone just placed a whistle on her larynx was beyond her.

"She's _your_ partner so you should have had double checked that she was coming!" Pansy looked like she was going to tear all her hair out now. "Urgh! Honestly! Draco and I could have had finished the rounds by now! But _no_! We have to _make sure _that you have a partner! We have to—"

"I didn't ask for you to accompany me here! If you want to finish your stupid rounds then go ahead, no one is stopping you," Hermione declared, praying so hard that they would just go now. Rules be damned. She could take care of herself. She would finish the entire rounds alone if she had to and if that meant that she didn't have to hear Pansy's screeching voice again. She could feel her ears bleeding already.

"Fine! Suits you," Pansy rolled her eyes while taking Draco's hand in hers. Hermione had to look away while she did so. In a different time, she had held those warm, securing hands. But that time seemed so far away now.

"Come on, Draco," Pansy whined, tugging on her boyfriend when he didn't move a muscle.

"It's in the rules that we can't leave someone if he or she has no partner," he suddenly uttered. His voice was so cold. He was just stating a fact and nothing more. Hermione had to mentally slap herself for wishing he would actually sound softer.

"What? Are you suggesting that we should patrol _their_ part of the hallways as well?" Pansy asked through her suddenly slitting eyes. It looked like she could kill Hermione any second.

"We have no choice. We just have to take her with us and get this all over with," Draco shrugged, looking exasperated and sorry, almost as if they had to carry an extra load because of Hermione, like she was becoming the pain in the butt here.

"I said you can go!" Hermione suddenly uttered through gritted teeth. Her palms hurt due to too much squeezing now. She just honestly wanted to slap him. Then run away and cry in the corners of her four-poster bed afterwards. But no, she wouldn't get that low. She would be the bigger person here.

"Merlin, thank you!" Pansy exasperatedly raised her arms in the air in a mocking manner.

"Wait," Draco suddenly said. "The rules say—"

"I don't care what the rules say, _Malfoy_! I can take care of myself," Hermione replied, cutting him harshly and running into the side of her assigned hallway before they could stop her. She just _needed_ to get away.

Staying near him was pure torture. She just wished everything would just go away. She just wanted to have a normal life. She didn't want to love him anymore. Was that too much to ask? Why was it too hard for her?

_Why was it too easy for_ _him_?

"Ah, I finally got you alone, my lovely."

Hermione almost toppled over as she whisked around and raised her wand in a protective stance, pointing it into the stranger who owned the unpleasantly cold voice.

"Whoa! Wait right there, I just wanted to talk," the person laughed, finally stepping out of the shadows, revealing a tall, stringy and lean but slightly muscular guy.

"Nott? Theodore Nott?" She said, squinting to see further.

"You remember my name," Theodore Nott smirked at her, edging closer than he should have, making her step back a little. Of course she did remember him. Who on earth would forget someone who just tortured his own classmates right in front of you?

"This is past curfew! What are you doing here?" Hermione asked him, suddenly disconcerted that he didn't seem to stop getting closer to her, soon enough she would collide with the wall.

"I just wanted to say hello," he leered when her back had finally reached the wall. It gave out a small thud on her occipital, it hurt a bit.

"What do you want? Get on with it. But I'll make it perfectly clear that your house just lost a good ten points for loitering the corridor past curfew," she breathed, turning sideways as Nott leaned further into her. His palms were now both situated on the wall at each of her side. She wanted to push him away but was afraid of touching him. He wouldn't even budge even if she had her wand on him a while ago, now she honestly didn't know why she wasn't pointing it at him anymore. Maybe it was because of the tingly feel of his minty breath on her cheek, or maybe she was just plain shocked of the sudden proximity.

Never in her life had she been this intimately close with another male before.

She would hug Adrian, but she had considered him as her brother.

Then there was Draco… but he wasn't a stranger. He was _Draco_.

"P-Please just take a step back," she stammered. Why the hell was she stammering? She was the Prefect here for Merlin's sake!

"And if I won't?" He taunted, seemingly enjoying his _cozy_ position at the moment.

"I'm afraid I would have no choice but to deduct on your house points again," she told him assertively, sounding a bit braver now that she had reminded herself who was the authority here.

"Granger, Granger, Granger. Do you honestly think I give a shit with our bloody house points? I'm not your ex-boyfriend who'd do anything for _his name_," Nott acerbically shook his head, smirking even more when he saw Hermione wince by the time he said the word 'ex-boyfriend'.

"What do you want?" Hermione pursed her lips, trying to control her anger and the involuntary wobbling of her knees. "You're wasting my time, Nott. I have a hallway to check."

"_Alone?_ Honestly, they left you _alone_? He let you walk around the castle _alone_ at this time?" He asked while raising a brow.

Hermione _knew_ that, of course. She knew that she was alone and Draco didn't care a bit for her safety for letting her patrol the corridor alone in this time of night. But she had accepted that. Only it _hurt_ really badly to be reminded of it again, thrice.

"It's none of your business, now please step back and let me finish my rounds," she asked him but he only leaned even further, making her gasp when their chests finally touched.

"I have a proposition to make, Granger," he suddenly whispered hoarsely into her ears. She was panicking now, and for once, she didn't even have the slightest idea of what to do as her stomach seemed to have jolted into a somersault when his breath tickled her ears with his next words: "Be my girlfriend."

"Wha—?" She was speechless. Was he joking?

"I got my eye on you the very first time I met you before. But I just couldn't have you because of Malfoy. But now that he has clearly no interest in you whatsoever, I think I'll get the chance I can get," he shrugged, looking as if everything was simple. He seemed very confident that she would say yes. He was even looking at her as if she had just been given the _honour_ of having that kind of opportunity. Git.

"What makes you think you can just ask me that?" She asked him furiously. Honestly? What did he think of her?

"I can help you. I don't care about your blood, you're sexy as hell and as far as I know, it is Malfoy's lost. I can help you regain your status in this school. No one will ever put you down or take pity on you again. Be my girlfriend, _Hermione_, and you can have anything you want," he told her seriously, too serious that it had temporarily rendered her speechless.

"I-I have to go," she pleaded him, finally pushing him this time but he held her shaking hands and pinned them on the wall, making her wand fall down with a dull sound on the marble floor.

"Tell me, Hermione. Have you ever…" his voice tailed off as his eyes went straight into her slightly opened lips; "…kissed anyone besides Malfoy?" He suddenly whispered huskily at her that it made the hairs on her nape stand up. It wasn't because of the question, no. It was because on the way he said it. It was very much like Draco's. It reminded her of the memory of Draco Malfoy's lips on hers. She realised how much she missed that. How much she missed him…

"I think that you need to know what else is there besides _him_," he added, making her look at him. "You're just too innocent, Hermione. You're like a child. _He_ made you like a child, so that you would cling into him, so you'll need him more than he could ever need you. Don't you find it a bit unfair? You know? When you suffer while he watches, while everyone looks down at you and he joins them?" He told her seriously, his finger twirling a stray curl from her soft tresses. "Tell me. Have you ever wondered… what it would feel like to compare kisses?"

"I-I…" Hermione didn't know what to say. She was still in shock for the sudden confession and on how much Nott could make a bit of sense, and how, in some utterly, unpredictable, twisted way, she was suddenly intrigued about it.

She realised that all her life, she had only kissed one guy. It was the best feeling in the world. Yet, that guy didn't even love her back anymore.

_To compare kisses…_

She had always been a very inquisitive girl. So would it really hurt to kiss this guy in front of her just to test a theory? Before, when she was with Draco, she couldn't even get close into a guy even in a friendly manner. Hell, Draco was even jealous of the brother she had known. Her world had been so constricted. It had revolved around him, but it was always okay for her. Because he was everything that she ever wanted and she didn't need to have more.

But now that he was gone, would it still make her unfaithful when he really couldn't care less of her existence?

He had let go of her, so why couldn't she let go of him?

Why bother holding on into a threadbare rope that would eventually break and make you fall into that pit? Wouldn't it be like prolonging your agony? Why bother holding on while scratching your palms in the process when you were made to fall, anyway? Why bother waiting when you know that the train was never coming back?

Why bother, really?

"I kiss better than him, you know," Nott smirked while holding her closer and caressing her cheek with his other hand. "And there's only one way to find out. There's only—"

"What the _fuck_ are you two doing?"

Hermione had compulsively pushed the guy in front of him to look sideways into the owner of the voice that had jolted her back to reality.

She didn't know why, but seeing Draco staring at the both of them made her feel like she was just caught cheating.

It was unfair, really.

He'd been with a lot of girls, even kissing them in public. Rumours had it that he had even slept with almost all of the Slytherin girls' population. He had touched them and kissed them _right in front of her. _

But now, for just the mere fact of having other guy almost kissing her made her feel like she had done a grave sin.

He could make her feel all the emotions in the world and it hurts. It hurts because she felt the unfairness of it all but she just couldn't do anything about it.

"You two should do better than to fool around during this time of the night," Draco uttered, sounding like he didn't care, his right hand was inside his pocket the whole time, the other on his back. He always did when she was near him. "Twenty points from Slytherin because of you, Nott, for loitering around the hallway at this time of the night," he added firmly. Hermione couldn't see his reaction because of the dim surroundings but he sounded livid, though she couldn't really tell as he was always angry and just so cold whenever she was around.

"What are you waiting for? Go back to whoever's bed you're sleeping tonight before you have to endanger half of our house points," he told Theodore Nott darkly. The latter didn't have to be told twice as he finally walked away, but not until lavishly staring at Hermione from head to toe, like that of a predator watching from an aquarium. This act almost made her shudder.

"Granger, really. You're a prefect. Surely you don't need to be reminded? Get back to your room. I'll finish these rounds," he spat at her angrily, almost like she was wasting his time. Hermione opened her mouth to gripe back but he had already turned to walk away.

While lying in her bed that night, Hermione wondered why Draco was at her side of the hallway. And where was Pansy?

* * *

**Song for the chapter: "Bird of the Summer" by A Fine Frenzy**

* * *

**A/N: I just want to thank you all for all the reviews you've given. I was expecting for hate because of what I've written and was so prepared to read them, but it turned out you loved them and you understood where I was coming from. Thank you so much! You guys are amazing.**

**One more thing though, I just have to bring this up. I feel like explaining something to one of the reviewers who said that I was making Hermione too weak for having full of tears & making her OOC. I **_**really**_** would accept and understand your review if you didn't say you didn't know what I wrote at the beginning since you haven't read the earlier chapters and you've just accidentally stumbled upon that last chapter. So naturally, it'll look that way. I feel a little protective of this story. I tried **_**so**_** hard to make everyone believable and so that was why that moment had come only on the 22****nd ****chapter. I could have made it be on chapter 10 or whatnot, but I tried to be careful with the characters. They needed to have developments before going in the right moments. Now, about Hermione's OOC-ness; you must understand that she didn't grow up in the world that the **_**real **_**Hermione should have grown up. She didn't have to face all those bigotry and racism towards her, since she'd grown up into the world wherein she was at the top of the caste. She didn't grow up being insulted to dirt, she grew up being **_**praised**_**, pampered and adored. And if you've read the earlier chapters, there were too little people around her world, like she had been secluded for perfection.**

**Draco, basically, became her everything. I think it was just proper for her to cry her eyes out in that moment. She didn't have to be the Hermione Granger we've known who would fight and curse the hell out of him if he did that, because she really wasn't raised to be in **_**Hermiones Granger's**_** environment. She was Hermione Granger, her heart, her soul, her everything, but you must know that her weakness was just built by the foundations of her childhood until she had grown up. She was protected too much. Now, the challenge is to get that bravery out of her, because we all know that Hermione Granger possesses that. But this is just the start on pushing something out of her because this is finally the time that she's going to be able to do it, knowing that all the pampering and protectiveness from her past will be gone now. She will finally be independent and it'll not be very easy for her. **

**Okay, I've written too much. Lol. I feel like I should summarize everything, if not, **_**beg**_** you to please read the rest of the past chapters. I can kneel if you want me to. I'm obsessed that way, haha. I just feel like you can't see the reason of this story if you've only read one chapter. It can't fill up anything, really. So I'm asking that you give this a chance. I know you've read my "She's Just Not into You" (I keep track with my reviewers, yes, haha). But you must know that this is **_**very**_** different from it. Hermione Granger was **_**very**_** strong and tough in that story because of the experiences she had in life. Please give this poor Hermione at "Almost Perfect, Almost Yours" a chance. She was too imprisoned in a perfect, sophisticated world and everything was a shock to her to finally get out into the world wherein she had fallen from the background. From princess to rugs, that is. If I was a Princess, then being suddenly told that I'm not and being thrown into an entirely different world and standing there with the love of my life basically not just hating me but also being **_**disgusted**_** of me, I would probably faint in too much wailing. :D **

**Anyway, I'm so sorry for a late chappie as I've been very busy with my muggle world. I can choose to sit right here and write this story, but I just can't do that. It's not that easy in the muggle world *sigh*. I feel like being in this part of my life where I'm being chased or so. I guess being on your 20's is like the prime of your life or something, like you can't just stay in one place. You just have to go out even if you're freakin' tired of your work. There are just so many things to do, so little time. I wish I have Hermione's time turner! **

**But enough of my ranting! LOL. Thanks for all the reviews and I'm hoping to get more from you. Love you all and God bless :) And I am sooo going to finish this story, so no worries in that part. I have the plot floating inside my head.**

**Love, Sue**


	25. The Very First Scar

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-five**

"**The Very First Scar"**

"The weather's really good today. I can just stay here and stare at the sky if I can make time stop," Ginny smiled, sighing in the beauty of the place. It was contagious. Hermione had to look up as well.

But looking up made her think more, and thinking more just hurts more. So she had to look down again.

Their feet looked like porcelain reflections under the clear waters of the lake as she stared at them. They glittered and shined with the sunbeams, almost as if the little rays were alive, gliding along their dipped legs; the water extending into their knees as they swayed.

It was the weekend and Ginny had finally succeeded on persuading Hermione to stop worrying about her studies and to go out to take some fresh air and sun with her along the Hogwarts Lake.

Hermione had always been used to study and to be a perfectionist when it would come to her schoolwork. She had been trained to be just that through the years, granted, she had learned it the hard way. But it wasn't just the reason why she wanted to stay inside their common room the whole weekend. She just didn't want to see any sight of a "Slytherin" in the moment.

The following day after that momentous night, Draco was seen with another girl. It was said that he and Pansy broke up, something about him leaving her alone to patrol, or the other way around. The stories were all distorted, but Hermione was just thankful that her name wasn't tangled with them. No one would really bother to attach her name with the issue, anyway. Everyone knew that Draco Malfoy considered her as a non-existent being, and having her as the reason of his break-up with his infamous girlfriend was just plain absurd, if not right down stupid.

Because she was just the _mudblood_…

Padma Patil wouldn't leave her that day as well. She had kept on apologising about her absence. It turned out that someone had thrown a prank on her by placing some sleeping draught on her pumpkin juice. They still didn't know who the culprit was. Hermione had an idea of course, but she wouldn't dare open something up especially that she was trying her hardest to avoid the very person who did it.

Theodore Nott was starting to be near creepy now. He would follow her everywhere, even if he wasn't that noticeable in some ways. He would just be there _somewhere_ every time she would look behind. Whenever she would go to the library, he would stand at the corner and read something as well. He would give her sinister, spine-chilling looks that made the hairs on her nape stand, almost as if he was reminding her of the "deadline" of the decision she was forced to think about. Her answer would be _no_ of course. Who did he think he was? But she just couldn't force herself to talk to him about it knowing that he just really scared the hell out of her. She couldn't do anything but just hide and avoid him in every possible way she could get, hoping that he would just get the message or would get tired of following her and would finally just go away.

Even before, his stares had always scared her. But all she had to do was to hold on closer to Draco and everything would be alright. She was untouchable when she was with him before. Now he had abandoned her into a desert filled with foragers and he didn't care one bit.

Draco returned to his mysterious attitude of disappearing somewhere. He looked surly and was always brooding all the time. Hermione wondered how his new girlfriend, Hestia Carrow, could even take his boorish nature. Hestia was just always serene and calm, and despite of being sorted into Slytherin, she seemed not to bother on blabbering about certain blood status and whatnot.

She was just _there_, and he was just _there_. They were like each others' garland. Just for a show, as others would say.

Yet, Hermione could tell that Draco seemed to like it better that way. He seemed to like Hestia more than Pansy, even. But that would be understandable, in Hermione's opinion.

She had heard it from a grapevine that Draco was trying to deliver a message to Astoria Greengrass, trying to pry his fiancée away so she would give her title up; as if it would matter, anyway. The poor girl could never really choose anyone for herself. It was a duty she could never break.

Others say that Draco Malfoy was just really lonely.

It was even as if he just wanted someone to be there for him.

He would go out of their common room late at night even if it wasn't his schedule to patrol the hallways. He seemed to have a secret but Hermione just couldn't put her finger on it.

Was it something to do with his training, months ago? Sometimes, whenever Hermione would lay awake at night and think about him, she couldn't help but compare the person before and after those training. He had changed drastically and it wasn't just because of their wrecked relationship. She knew it was more than that.

Sometimes, she wished she could just make it all okay, like before. No matter how rude he could get to the people around him, he would always come running into her seeing that she was the only one who understood him.

By then, maybe she could at least help him in whatever yoke he was carrying on his back. But she knew it was just wishful thinking. Never in a million years would Draco Malfoy turn for her comfort, ever again.

It was something that she really needed to accept.

He _hated_ her. He basically thought she didn't exist anymore. But why couldn't she just accept that? What the hell was she waiting for anyway? Sometimes, she wondered if she really had lost it, or she was just too stupid to comprehend the fact that it was really over now.

"I'm glad you came here with me, Hermione," Ginny smiled genuinely at her, moving her bare feet in the clear waters. The action created little ripples, making the shaft flicker like diamonds on their distorted reflections.

It reminded Hermione of the boy on her summer.

"Sometimes, I think you're being too hard with yourself, you know. When you come to look at it all over again, I really think you shouldn't," Ginny added gently as she looked back at her. "It's not you."

Hermione was still too lost with her own little world and was taken aback with what Ginny said. She didn't know what to respond so she just stared at the younger girl with curiosity.

"Do you know that you've done so much to me and to the other people than what you've given yourself any credit for? The very first time I saw you, you were this unreachable girl surrounded by everyone, admired by everyone. I really didn't think we'd be friends after that confrontation with you and your brother. But you never hesitated to be friends with me, still; even if you already got yourself the crowd that you should be into. I admire you so much, Hermione, you know… how you carry yourself, how you seem to be unaware of the magnet you have, pulling every person around you," Ginny beamed at her before looking up at the clear sky once again, an act that Hermione couldn't do at the moment.

"I was so, so in love with Harry Potter before…" Ginny suddenly confessed, sighing and shaking her head while smiling at the memory. "Like I could do anything just to have one smile from him, but I just couldn't have his attention, you know. But then you came, and you made me realise something. You're so beautiful and smart and just so perfect, and you got guys being crazy over you without really doing anything. Did you even know how much you broke Ron's heart when you refused his invitation with Harry for a lunch that one time at Hogsmeade?" Ginny laughed softly at her.

Hermione frowned and had to think about what Ginny was talking about. It took seconds for her to finally remember that time. She was at Hogsmeade and she was so excited to finally purchase the book she wanted so much when she met Harry and Ron at the streets just a couple of blocks away from the bookstore she was intending to enter. They invited her to go with them for lunch. Hermione didn't want to let them down but she had already promised Adrian that she was going to spend her lunch with him. She really thought it was just a random invitation, that those two were just being polite seeing that they had bumped each other at the streets. She really didn't know the gravity of it.

She wasn't looking enough.

If only she did, then she would've avoided meeting those Durmstrang students on that bookshop who had tried to harass her. And Draco wouldn't have to save her...

Maybe then, when that incident didn't happen, she couldn't have had fallen for him even deeper than she already had.

Then, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt this much.

"You made me understand that loving yourself first could be the key so someone could love you back," Ginny continued. "So then, I worked hard in making myself better. I tried to venture out on other people. I loved myself, I tried to focus on myself, tried to look beautiful not for anyone but for _me_. You were this rare, pretty girl they couldn't have and so I tried to be like you. I tried to gain more confidence for myself. I realised then that the time I stopped chasing Harry, was the time he started on noticing me. It's all because of you, Hermione. You're an inspiration to me, you know. You're my role model."

Hermione had her lips slightly opened as she listened to the younger girl.

Ginny had so much faith in her.

She was suddenly ashamed of almost giving up, when this girl right here, believed in her so much.

When she was younger, when something started to hurt, she would cry. But crying meant lesser in those times, you would cry just because you're hurt, but that was the end of it. Eventually, you'd run again, hurt yourself again, and then cry again. But no matter how many times you'd fall, you'd still stand up anyway because you know that the pain was temporary. It was a provisional cycle.

Scars are just scars. When you close your eyes, you'll never see it. When you look somewhere, you'll never see it. But when you always try to look at it being etched in your once blemish-free skin, you'll just remember that painful moment it was created, like a phantom pain that was never really there anymore.

Was she making a phantasm of her pain? Or was she trying to stop her wounds from healing because she could never let go of the moment _before_ the cut ever happened?

They were indeed people in this lifetime that a person could never meet. The world was too wide to have that kind of acquaintances. When you look around and see the persons around you, sometimes, you would wonder: what if you were born with a different life, or perhaps in a different lifetime and you never had the chance on meeting them?

But regardless of anything, despite of everything that had happened, she still could never see herself not meeting Draco.

He was her childhood. He was her life.

Until now, even when she would look at him from afar, sometimes she could still see that sweet, innocent smile of her little Draco; waiting for her while she would run down those stairs so they could go out and play once again.

It seemed so far away, it seemed like from a different life, even.

In this life, he would still smile, but never for her. He would walk around and hold somebody's hand, but never hers. He would kiss the girl… but the girl was never her any longer.

Maybe that was why it would hurt too much, because she wasn't allowing anything to mend; because she wasn't letting him go. Because every time she would see another girl beside him, she couldn't help to think that the place right there, was her spot before.

"Ginny? Do you ever wonder what it would feel like when it's always summer? Or when the weather's always sunny? Why couldn't it stay like that forever?" Hermione asked, stroking the slightly soggy grass with her palms.

"I don't know," Ginny shrugged. "I guess, maybe, it'll suddenly be boring if it's summer forever."

"Maybe," Hermione smiled softly. "People are strange. They can never be contented of something. One moment, they would love you too much, like they could die without you. Then another moment, they wanted you dead, instead."

"That's a scary notion," Ginny frowned at her, which made Hermione chuckle quietly. Maybe she was really losing it.

"But you know, once you love someone, you can't just forget about it that fast, except if you didn't really love that person at the first place and you only thought you did," Ginny said.

"Maybe he didn't really love me, then. Maybe he just thought he did," Hermione whispered. It surprised her that the revelation didn't even bring a single tear to fall from her eyes. Or maybe it was just because all of her tears had already been drained out.

The sky was beautiful as Hermione suddenly laid her back on the grass to finally stare at the heavens above. It was like an empire of sapphire hues, highlighted by some of the fair clouds floating magnificently on its vast, unspoken citadel.

_Time_, it fades away.

Each person had a story to tell. But it was no use living in forgotten times. _You could never have them anymore_, like being in the moment of the very first stolen kiss, being inside the barriers of your very first waterfall, being in the time of your first sunrise. Even the first dew drop in the morning needed to fade away when the sun asks it to.

It was in times like these that she would see his face, again.

But now, she was ready to look up and forget about the shadow of that face.

She just needed to accept it.

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger had finally allowed her very first scar to heal.

* * *

Hermione was such in a good mood today. Her talk with Ginny helped a lot.

It was like being finally out of the prison she was trying to lock herself into.

It was finally time to focus on that opened window instead of the closed, rusty door.

Yes, she was no longer the Hermione Pucey everyone had looked up to. Some of the friends she had cherished so much before had turned their backs on her. Even the mother she had loved so much was blaming her for ruining their family.

But she never really lost her friends; she just lost those who were _pretending_ to be one.

She never really lost a mother. She just gained her real one, the one who loved her dearly just as she should be loved.

She no longer lived in an enormous manor, with grand staircases and refined, grandiose chandeliers. But now, she was living in a _home_.

She no longer had the best robes, the most expensive garments and the best wardrobe, but at least she didn't need to hold her breath and hide her discomfort while wearing those painful corsets anymore.

Yes, she had to save a bit now if she wanted to buy those really expensive books that Draco had spoiled her with. But at least she could buy and read them with greater value now, knowing that this time, they came from her own pocket.

Her life wasn't really taken away from her, the real one was just given back and she needed to let go of the fake replica of it.

Now, she could open her eyes and look in the mirror to see that same girl, tied together with a smile, still heartbroken but almost there… almost there to finally stitch that deep wound.

It would form the very first scar. But scars are not only made to indicate that you were once hurt. They're also there to remind you that every wound actually _closes and heals_.

Now she understood better.

She had lost so much, but had actually gained even more.

The sun was beautiful, but she had to also appreciate the life that the rain brings.

Today, she was just in a better disposition that she had even hummed a little. It was a bit strange. But she supposed it was a good start.

She was trying to finish her schoolwork at the moment so she could go out with Harry, Ron and Ginny tomorrow. Harry promised to treat them at Hogsmeade. Ginny also wanted to go to the hair salon with Hermione afterwards. Hermione thought she really needed it. Although her curls had always been beautiful because of Nanny Demelza's constant efforts through the years, Hermione wanted to have a good haircut, knowing that her hair was already too long that it was by now reaching the small curve on her back just above her bottom. Draco had always wanted it to stay that long and she never had the chance to decide anything knowing that Lady Petrova controlled even the length of her hair and was always a bootlicker when it came to the Malfoys.

Hermione was already in the middle of her potion essay, which had incredibly reached over three parchments now when someone had suddenly sat next to her. The person's shadow made her frown a bit for that interrupted moment.

When she looked up however, she was suddenly taken aback that she was face to face with none other than Theodore Nott.

His face was just inches away from her now that she had almost hurt her neck by instantly backing away. But this act just seemed to amuse him more.

"W-Why are you here?" Hermione stuttered, looking at him with wide eyes as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Relax, love. I just came to ask you if you've thought about my proposal," he told her cockily, stealthily easing his way to get closer to her. He could bring forth this really daunting aura and it was scaring her. But the more she would look scared, the more he seemed to enjoy it.

Hermione hated it when he would just act as if everything was amusing him. She suddenly felt like an entertainer here. And so she had to say the next words, just to catch him off guard. "Actually, I did," she finally said.

"Oh? And what is it then, Princess?"

"Don't even call me that ever again," Hermione pursed her lips, stopping herself from completely crumpling the homework she had worked so hard with, repeating in her mind like a mantra that she was going out with Harry, Ron and Ginny tomorrow so she just couldn't mess it up.

"Why? Because it was Draco's _pet name_ for you?" He taunted.

"It was nice talking to you," Hermione held her head high as she stood up while hastily gathering all the parchments on the table. He wanted to slap him for causing her that much pain when he said his name. He just knew how to goad her, didn't he?

"Whoa, hey, baby. You're a bit feisty today, huh? Alright, then. I won't call you _Princess_ anymore if that's what you want. So… you were saying?" He sneered at her. Hermione wanted to hex the hell out of him just to wipe off that maddening smirk. But she had a better idea.

"If you want me to be your girlfriend, I think then that you'll have to work for it," she suddenly said, her voice sounding braver than the usual. It was fitting; she was a Gryffindor after all.

Theo stared at her for a few seconds as if she was barking mad before laughing as if she had just told him the funniest joke. "Excuse me? Why would I do that?"

Hermione expected this of course. "Exactly. Why would you?" She smiled before snatching the last of her things whileturning to walk away.

Hermione was so sure she had just won their private little battle; that was however, until he caught up with her and stood in front of her to impede her way. Hermione couldn't help but stare curiously at him. He was staring back, only it was more intense. His brows were furrowed as if he was trying to figure her out but he just couldn't. She didn't want to think about the implications of those stares but he seemed a bit… enthralled, somehow. She wasn't sure.

"Um… Is still there something you want to clear up with?" Hermione had to ask or she was sure he'd just stare at her forever. And she honestly didn't need that.

"You are difficult," he frowned at her as if she was an abstract art to behold. He seemed to really believe she would consider his offer and not just walk away. Well, his pride had clearly damaged even his sanity.

"Glad you know. I complicate things. And you'll just be wasting your time, so it's best for you to leave," Hermione nodded, now looking directly at him, daring him to oppose the fact she had just stated. She wasn't playing games here, and she certainly didn't need anyone to play it for her.

"I think… I'd like to complicate things a bit," he suddenly said quietly, which made her look up at him in scrutiny. Was he serious?

"W-Why?" She asked. She really couldn't think of a valid reason why someone like Theodore Nott, a pompous, rich, arrogant pureblood would ever waste his time for a _mudblood_ like her. Draco never did, and he was supposed to be in love with her.

"Are you really that bored?" She couldn't help but add that question. She couldn't think of any convincing reason, really.

Theo smirked. "No. It's just because, I think that you're worth it," he told her before abruptly taking her hand, causing her to be shocked that even her extinct had totally forgotten to move her hand away. When he kissed her knuckles gently, she couldn't help but open her mouth a little, too surprised to keep it close at the moment. "If you want me to work hard for it, then expect me to do so." He winked at her before walking away, leaving Hermione speechless with a tingly hand and a jumbled state of mind.

* * *

Hermione was still in a state of bewilderment as she walked alone along the hallway, urging her feet to move her to the safety of their common room and pleading her mind to stop running an extra mile due to too much thinking about Nott's motives, whatever it really was.

She was about to bound on one of the stairs when she suddenly heard something along one of the hidden cupboards of the floor. She had always been a curious girl and she just needed to check if everything was okay. She was a prefect, after all, so it was in her nature to make sure that everything was in proper order.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She called, but the occupants seemed to not hear her. She bit her lower lip and squeezed her hands together when she realised that the sounds were actually moans of pleasure.

She hesitated for a while as she stopped a good meters away from the source. This kind of thing was not her forte and she didn't want to walk in on something quite private. But she also knew she had a duty to keep.

"Okay, you can do this," she breathed before taking her wand out and pointing it to the cupboard's doorknob.

What she saw next, however, had almost made her lost consciousness.

The two lovers were intertwined with each other; they were almost half naked, with only their opened jumpers hanging on their shoulders covering the remaining parts of their nakedness. The girl still had her skirt on but her underpants had obviously been discarded as her legs were tangled into her lover's torso. The front of the guy's trousers was opened as he pounded in and out of her against the wall.

Hermione was too horrified that she couldn't even move a muscle to save herself. It wasn't just because it was her first time to witness such a thing. It wasn't just because she had just walked in the actual act itself. It was because the guy thrusting his hard length into the screaming girl next to him was Draco Malfoy.

"What the fuck!"

Hermione looked up and saw Draco's eyes glaring murder into her. It was still hooded with lust as he still didn't stop his current act, ramming harder into Hestia Carrow's eager entrance. The girl was too caught up with ecstasy as she reveled on Draco's ministrations, not knowing or rather not caring that another person was actually there as well. Perhaps, in some perverted, warped way, it had turned her on even more as she screamed his name over and over again.

"Get the fucking hell out of here, Granger! Dammit!"

Hermione had almost tripped as she struggled to get out and run as fast as she could from there.

Her heart was pounding too fast and too deep, it hurt. Her lungs struggled to suck in the moving air around her as she tried so hard to make her legs survive and go further. She hadn't even noticed the amount of water coming out from her blurry eyes.

Everything just hurt too much that she couldn't even breathe anymore. Finally, she had collapsed into a secluded wall, her legs felt like jelly as they were battered by imaginary trinkets, torturing her bit by bit as if she was a pincushion.

She couldn't do anything but just wail her heart out. She had _never_ cried so hard like this before, almost like she was once again a newborn being hastily pulled out from her mother's safe sanctuary and finally being thrown into the cruel, pitiless world.

She had to clutch on her heart and scrunch her legs further into the wall, almost as if begging it to swallow her whole so she didn't have to face and stay in this vindictive life.

She was crying hysterically, she wasn't sure if she could ever even know how to stop anymore.

She just wanted to cry because it stung. It stung so much she was sure she could die of pain.

She was just so ready. She was struggling a bit but she was so ready to finally stitch the wounds that he had left, only to find it being freshly opened again, brutally.

Now she didn't even know how deep it went, or if it could still close and heal.

Right now, she just wanted to cry; cry for her loss, cry for her pitiable situation, just cry because everything had been too unjust.

She was just so wrong.

She lay on the cold floor, still on a crouching position, trying to nurse the wounds that would _never_ heal again. Because it was the first scar, just being reopened by the very person she had first loved and hated.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Tied Together with a Smile" by Taylor Swift**

* * *

**A/N: Argh! I'm so sorry! I promise to make it all better soon. Love it? Hate it? Just tell me. I'm just going to my cupboard to hide again. Teehee.**

**And thank you guys for the reviews! God bless!**

**Kisses,**

**Sue**


	26. Roses Have Thorns

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-six**

**"Roses Have Thorns"**

"Oh, you look so pretty, Hermione! I love it!" Ginny commended her excitedly, even clapping her hands together as she gaped at her friend's reflection at the half-length mirror.

Hermione stared at her new self in front of the hairdressing salon's mirror. She couldn't help her hand to wander along the smooth, warm, honey-coloured tresses on her shoulder. The stylist had done well, she could tell. She had only asked to get a normal haircut and just wanted to get rid of the excess length of her hair seeing that it was already reaching her buttocks. But the older woman seemed to get a bit carried away, gushing here and there on how she could style her long locks, seeing that she had the face that would look so perfect in anything.

The hairstylist had left it being long as Hermione wasn't really used of any daring haircuts; though now it was only on a shoulder length level with a much more resilient, supple, curly, layered style. The woman had also changed the shade a bit, making it more honey-hued now. Hermione's new tresses warmed up her complexion, making her equally honey-coloured eyes to delightfully pop out and be rounder than it usually was. It also now had a thicker volume than before and Hermione loved it. It was more fun, less formal and it made her forget about her worries somehow, like it was telling her to skip a little, to bounce her curls a little, because, somehow, she was beautiful.

She could even barely remember the pale, miserable and pitiful girl in her bed that morning. She frankly didn't want to get out of her blankets and she had to struggle to stay inside while Ginny pulled her blankets out. The younger girl couldn't help but gasp when she finally saw the reason why she was so adamant on hiding.

Hermione had cried her heart out that night beside that secluded wretched wall, silently pleading it to just end everything. She really couldn't think of anything to alleviate the pain except to cry harder with no restraint. It was a good thing that no one saw or heard. She had really preferred to be alone as no one would really understand the length of what she felt. Sure, some people might empathize, but then they still wouldn't even feel the level of hurt she was feeling. It was different, more than anyone could even dream to imagine; the kind of feeling that when you try to stop crying, it would hurt even badly that it could almost suffocate and choke you to death, like you were drowning into your own body. You just needed to cry, there was no choice any longer.

After what seemed like an eternity, she had at last gathered all the strength left inside her to drag her body towards their common room. How she even reached the portrait hole was beyond her. She could even barely breathe and she was just thankful she didn't pass out in the middle of the antechamber.

She had closed the curtains of her four-poster bed to cover her miserable disposition and lay there, almost like a lost soul floating in the emptiness of the purgatory. Her head and heart were pounding at the same time and each beat actually stung like something was trying to hammer her out into pieces. She tried to ease her breathing, tried to relax her nervy arms and weedy legs.

But everything just _hurt_.

She tried to place pressure on her heart with her trembling hand, covering herself with the bulky blankets and crouching to splint that particular painful spot on her heavy chest.

She fell asleep with a broken heart, whispering to herself over and over again that everything would be alright and that she would get through it. It was a feeble attempt, but at least she was trying really hard.

Waking up in the morning was even worse. She could even barely open her eyes. It was too heavy to do so. She knew she looked horrible with those deep, dark bags under her eyes. Her head didn't help either, as she felt it almost exploding due to the pressure from her nasal sinuses going to her throbbing temple. Even her voice had failed her as it was very hoarse and weak.

She felt pathetic, weak and just so low.

It was ironic just how much Draco had been so protective of her before, that he could go hysterical whenever he would see someone just accidentally bumping her shoulder, or even if she would just accidentally have a paper cut on her finger.

Now, he was the very reason why she almost died of pain. And he _didn't care_ one bit.

The remnants of last night were still very raw and tender.

But, no.

She knew she just couldn't linger there.

She was just a girl, soft as a rose, but she wouldn't let anyone kill her by taking her away from her roots. She would fight. She would use her thorns. Some of it may be broken by the pressure of the thief's hand, but at least the thorns were made to make him bleed as well.

And so she told Ginny everything.

Usually, Hermione was a very private person. She really wouldn't share anything as long as she could keep it. But this one was just too different.

She needed a friend. She needed to know that at least someone knew and understood her situation.

Ginny just listened the entire time and never once had questioned her sanity or judged her weakness. Hermione appreciated that.

That was what she needed that time.

When Ginny asked her, however, if she wanted to postpone their planned activities for the day, Hermione had to disagree.

If there was anything she needed right now, it was distraction.

She had been neglecting her happiness for far too long, for a sin she never really committed.

Truth be told, she was the one being unfair to herself. She had pitied herself too much.

And she refused to stay that way.

If there was anything that this stumbling block had taught her, it was the fact that she could use it as a lever to lift herself up.

What was the use of hiding and crying the whole day, really?

It was like you're allowing the cause of pain to win against you. It was like claiming to the world that you have lost the battle before you have even started the race.

Yes, you can cry for a while. Everyone deserves it when they get hurt. But you can't cry forever.

It was the rule of this world that too many people have overlooked, drowning them into the murky waters of mournfulness. She refused to be one of them.

That day, she had asked Ginny to help her get rid of her obvious worn-down disposition. She and Ginny had then decided to sneak out and go to the beauty and hairdressing parlour instead of waiting for Harry and Ron as they had initially planned yesterday.

Hermione didn't want anyone to see her in such a hopeless state. Having to suffer Ginny's sympathetic gaze was enough for her.

Ginny had left her in the salon for a moment to go back to Hogwarts and get Harry and Ron, also promising to distract them and buy their time for a while, especially that the facial massage therapists told them that the potion needed a bit time to be absorbed by Hermione's skin in order to get rid of her eye bags and tensioned facial muscles. She honestly looked like she'd been crying for a year, with her eyes swollen like that.

By the time it was done, however, Hermione was so happy of the outcome that she needed to smile as if she hadn't just almost died of crying yesterday.

Suddenly, everything was just brighter. It was psychological, she knew. But she could be shallow for a while if it meant it could somehow lessen her pain.

Each cut of her hair felt like freedom, like she was finally allowed to get out of her old skin; it was like a new-found metamorphosis.

Perhaps this day could be better. After all, a day could always be different from the other. That was the actuality she was trying to hold unto.

"I really like it too. Thanks Gin," Hermione smiled at her friend while gently touching her soft locks and expectantly looking at both Harry and Ron who had yet to comment anything on her new look.

"Well? Er, what do you think?" She asked the two boys who hadn't said a word and just stayed gawking at her. They seemed to be out of words for anything and it made her nervous that she might have gone overboard with all these changes. "I-Is it too much? I mean, I just asked the hairstylist to give it a trim or so… but—"

"No! No, of course it's not too much!" Ron suddenly shouted, which made all the heads inside the room turn towards him. His face was suddenly and incredibly trying to mimic his own ginger hair now.

"I-I mean… It's not too much because you look… really good, you know. The shade suits your eyes and your skin colour," he suddenly mumbled while looking down and placing his hands on his pocket. Ginny was trying her best to stifle a laugh beside Hermione, while Harry was now looking incredulously at Ron, maybe wondering why the hell he was suddenly talking about shades and colours now.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione nodded as she beamed at him, gently nudging Ginny to stop giggling at her side.

It had been such a great day.

Hermione even felt it had been a century since she had ever laughed the way she did that day.

After Harry's butterbeers and treacle tarts treat at The Three Broomsticks, Ron asked them to have some sweets at Honeydukes. He even bought each one of them some sweets as well, and from his own pocket too. He bought Harry some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, gave his sister some sugared butterfly wings and had lastly gave Hermione the new rendition of the Honeyduke's ring pops.

It was a bit expensive than the others, and Hermione couldn't help but feel really special when Ginny whispered to him that Ron usually didn't do this kind of stuff. Actually, he had never done it before. His allowance was only enough for him to save for his wants, sometimes, his own needs. Ginny even told her that Ron buying them some sweets was just an alibi so he could buy something for Hermione.

"Here," Ron smiled sheepishly while handing Hermione a Honeydukes ring pop. The imitation of the 24-carat gold candy glowed when he briefly placed it on her finger. He was shaking a little, but the act even amused her more.

Ron was such a sweet, sweet guy. Every little gesture from him made her like him more.

But in some unreservedly outlandish way, she couldn't help but be taken away from him and be taken to the person from her past whenever he would stay lovable like this…

She knew he was just trying to be really charming when he offered her that little ring candy, but her heart seemed to skip a beat when a memory had suddenly flashed across her mind.

"_I now pronounce you husband and wife," Adrian grumbled, looking bored and annoyed at the same time as he participated on their silly game of wedding make-believe. It was Draco's idea, and Hermione seemed to really like it since she got to have some flowers on her hair so he had no choice but to comply and take the role of the minister who would wed them. Draco pointed out it was the perfect role for him since he was Hermione's brother and he couldn't possibly play the groom._

_Hermione giggled when Draco took out a little candy ring pop from his pocket and struggled a bit while he opened it out of its container. He grinned when he finally cracked it open, placing it gently on her finger afterwards._

_It was magically heavy like a real diamond, except it was better since she could eat it later._

"_Now you're my wife!" Draco nodded with satisfaction, boldly claiming her as his own while leaning to place a small peck on her cheek, causing the younger girl to blush instantly._

"_Hey! You're not supposed to do that. I'm going to tell mother that you kissed Hermione on the cheek!" Adrian frowned while protectively pulling his younger sister away from her make-believe husband._

"_She's my wife now! I can kiss her anytime I want! It's in the rules," Draco countered back while pulling Hermione towards him as well._

_Little Hermione seemed confused and irritated now as she couldn't concentrate on her new ring candy especially that the two boys were constantly tugging her arm here and there._

"_Let go of my sister, Draco," Adrian commanded the younger boy but he just wouldn't budge._

"_No, you let go of her! She wants to play with me. Right, Hermione?" Draco asked her, looking expectant as he held her tiny hand._

"_I want to play with both you and Adrian," Hermione murmured quietly, now sensing the tension between the boys._

"_But you want to play with me more, right?" Draco asked again, not having any thoughts of giving up the topic._

_He looked too confident and Hermione knew Adrian was really angry now. But she also knew it was really bad to lie, and she couldn't lie. Nanny Demelza told her that a true angel just couldn't lie, and her father told her she was his angel._

_She didn't know what to do so she just pursed her lips and nodded her accord on Draco's statement. She didn't know how to lie, after all._

"_Hah! You see?" Draco scorned at Adrian while grabbing Hermione's little frame closer to him, her soft curls bouncing in the process, making her look like a little doll with her long lashes and worried eyes popping out guiltily into her brother's saddened face._

"_B-But it's better to play with the both of you too, Adrian," she told him, hoping that she could somehow alleviate the damage that she had done._

"_I think I want to continue the book I was reading. You two have fun, then," Adrian declared firmly while turning around and running back into the mansion._

"_Adrian! Wait!" Hermione wanted to run after her brother but Draco's hand impeded her to do so._

"_Stay with me, Hermione," he suddenly asked her gently._

"_But Adrian…"_

"_He wants to read, remember? He wants to do some boring stuff. While with me, you won't get bored, ever," he told her. "Come on, you can choose anything you want to do today."_

"_I can?" She smiled at his tempting words, almost instantly forgetting her guilt towards her brother._

"_Of course, you're my wife now so you get to do anything you want," he smiled smugly while jumping on each of the garden's stoned stairs._

_When he had reached the third step, he then turned around and smiled widely at her…_

_Hermione looked up at him and wondered if he was a real seraph from the heavens. The sun was blinding behind him, but it gave him some ethereal, wraithlike glow; almost like there was a beautiful halo playing on his blond hair._

"_Come, Hermione…" He smiled, reaching out for her with his hand opened for her to take._

_Hermione would never ever forget the genuine smile and outstretched hand of that boy forever._

_She knew that it would be forever etched inside her heart the moment it had happened. When those colourful patterns from the sun created sweet kaleidoscope on his gleaming feature…_

_She beamed back as she slowly raised her hand to reach for him. When their hands touched and intertwined with each other, Hermione knew she'd do anything for him to never let go of her._

_She knew that every time she would raise her hand to reach up for him, he would always be there to pull her with him…_

"_You're all mine now," he told her softly. "You will always be."_

Hermione couldn't help but feel the brief tug on that certain sore spot on her chest as Draco's image vividly flashed across her mind, on how the sun glowed in circles around him, on how his smile seemed to be the most untainted occurrence in the whole universe, and on how… in that day, she was so sure that he would always offer his hand to pull her towards him. Never in a million years did she think that he was going to use them to push her away instead.

"Are you okay, Mione?" Ginny asked her worriedly, snapping her out from her current trance.

"I-I am…" Hermione smiled. "I just want to thank you guys, for making me happy this day. I won't forget this. I'm not living in the best days of my life, but hey, not everyone has that, right? You showed me that there's absolutely no reason for me to stop being happy no matter how bad everything gets. It's _my_ choice and if it hurts me, I have no one to blame but myself. I decided I'm not giving up. What's the use of being a Gryffindor if I do, right?" She added.

"Oh Mione!" Ginny suddenly wailed as she threw herself on the older girl. "You can do it! I know you can!" She sniffed as she finally let go after a constricting embrace, making Hermione chuckle a little. Somehow, she remembered the old, sweet Mrs. Weasley in her. She loved her so much.

"We'll always be here, Hermione. Don't you worry about it, okay? I happen to kill an evil wizard before I have even learned how to spell my name. You got my back," Harry winked at her.

"You guys are just so good to me. I can't believe I haven't met you ever since I was young. I've probably missed out on a lot of things now. I feel like I was really meant to meet you and be your friend," Hermione grinned at them.

"Oh, trust me. You did miss out on pretty much a lot of things, don't know if you'll feel lucky or not when you'll hear it, though," Harry chuckled.

"I have all day to listen," she smiled while interlacing her arm with Ginny as they all headed to venture yet another shop at Hogsmeade.

So what, if she was hurt? So what, if she was still in love with the guy who could never love her back any longer?

So what?

It wouldn't stop her from smiling any longer.

He had perfectly moved on with his life; it was time for Hermione Granger to do so as well.

* * *

Hermione was walking towards the Gryffindor tower with a serene smile. This day had turned out to be better than she had expected. She couldn't believe a haircut could somehow help in a way. It was like a first step for her moving on.

Not everything turned out to be exactly what she wanted, but she had just so many things to thank God for either way.

Life had always been a novel; somehow, you would always have to cry on some parts. But she knew they were just _parts_. They couldn't make up on everything. She knew, somehow, as long as she still got the people who cared and loved her, she could survive this.

She could still make it all better. She could write her own story. It was just a matter of figuring things out and choosing to fight rather than to give up.

Yes, she had the right to cry, because she was just a girl. She had feelings as well. She was just human, after all.

But she didn't have the right to just cry and give up.

She couldn't let it. Living in forgotten times wouldn't take you anywhere.

She could feel herself unconsciously smiling now. It was indeed a fun day. She remembered on how Ron accidentally let his ice cream fall, making Harry step on it and that he almost slipped down into the ground. Ron could really crack her up. He was just so hilarious in such a natural, innocent way.

And then… there were these roses from Theodore Nott. He had even given them to her in the Great Hall, when everyone was looking. It was like he had finally made it official that he was courting her, and that he wasn't ashamed of it.

"_What's this?" Hermione asked, looking around uncomfortably as they had gathered a lot of audiences now. They just couldn't believe that a Slytherin would give a mudblood some flowers. Some were even waiting for a serious prank to ensue, but alas for them, it never happened._

"_I'm giving you flowers," Theo shrugged._

"_Why?"She frowned at him._

"_Because you're pretty today," he smiled._

"_Is this your lame start, then?" She asked, crossing her arms while giving him a look of appraisal._

"_Maybe," he shrugged again. "But even if it isn't, I'm still giving you flowers because you're beautiful. And men give their ladies flowers."_

"_I'm not your lady," she told him defensively._

"_I know that too. But I can still give you some, because as I said… you're beautiful," he winked at her and then, did the unthinkable by kissing her cheek gently._

_It was too sweet, too slow, too… charming, that she had even forgotten to step away._

"_Stay like this," he whispered at her, before walking away._

She knew he was just probably trying to get on her good mood, or was just trying to please her so he could get what he wanted. She wasn't a fool to easily believe him.

But somehow, that act made her feel a bit… special.

_"Stay like this."_

She smiled. For the first time, she would do something that Theodore Nott had asked her. She would stay this way. The harsh wind could sway and bent her a little, but she would stay rooted on her spot.

She was too lost with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed someone was actually following her.

She was about to turn into a certain curve to follow a path leading to the Gryffindor's tower when someone had suddenly yanked her by the arm into a secluded corner. She was too stunned to do anything especially that she had almost been knocked over as a large, firm body was suddenly pressed against her and the wall.

But it wasn't just that. It was because the feel of his chest and that spicy scent his body elicited was too familiar; too familiar actually, that her body seemed to react in a way that she had never felt for quite a long time.

She hated it.

She hated it simply because she _hated him_ but couldn't really do it with everything in her. It was like being stripped off from the voluntary impulses of your own brain.

"What are you doing?" She spat at him, sending him a death glare. Every time she would look at him now she would always be taken to the time when he was pressed with another girl's body; on how he shouted at her like she was a pest that needed to go. All the blood in her veins was now shouting for a revolution at this moment.

Now that she was face to face with him again, she remembered on how and why exactly she _hated_ him so much; she wanted to punch him just to hurt him physically.

But even _that_, he didn't deserve at all. A little hurt on her knuckles could never be wasted just for _him_.

Draco Malfoy wasn't worth it. Not ever.

"Why did you cut your hair?" He suddenly demanded. Hermione tried her hardest not to laugh.

Honestly?

"What is it to you?" She asked him bitterly.

"I told you never to cut it before," he told her, almost as if he really had the right to say that. He really was just the most selfish, cold-hearted bastard on earth, wasn't he?

"Are you even serious? Do you even hear yourself?" She had to laugh coldly. It didn't sound like her, but no one could actually take it against her.

"Yeah, I fucking hear and see everything; including the fact that you're flirting with every guy in the way, including Nott." He looked really enraged now, like he could actually kill someone. The hand on her arm that was squeezing her was starting to hurt now as well. But she just couldn't let him win. Never again would she ever let him see her weakness.

"Have you also heard that it's _none of your business_?" She glared at him, trying to whisk his hand away from her other arm so she could go but he was just too strong.

"Don't you dare walk out on me!" He shouted, now even tightening his hold on her as his other hand slammed her shoulder into the wall. It wasn't that hard, but it made her wince a little due to his uncontrolled pressure.

"I can do anything I want! I can walk out on anybody I want! You don't own me and you can't tell me what to do or not do!" Her heart was racing now. Even words failed to describe anything that she was feeling as she struggled to get away from his strong hold.

"And so you flirt with other guys now? You're such a whore!"

Right then, Hermione had to do it. She had to slap him. _Hard_. It couldn't amount to everything that he had done to her. But still, it felt grand.

"Don't you _dare_ accuse me of what you are?" She shouted vehemently as she looked at him. He was now cursing and touching his reddened cheek, hissing with the stinging pain that her sharp slap had caused.

She tried to grab her chance to run while he was nursing his stinging cheek, but she only had gotten one step until he suddenly grabbed her waist and pressed her back to the wall. She could tell he was fuming but was still trying to keep his composure as he coldly stared at her.

"So you're doing this because of last night. To make me jealous," he said it in the most final way; like he was so sure of everything, like he knew her too well because he _owned_ her.

"No. I'm doing this for _me_. That's how it's going to be from now on," she told him with a trembling voice; however she made sure it was filled with confidence. Who did he think he was? He was such a git. She couldn't even comprehend the reason why she had _ever_ felt a single emotion for him at the first place.

"You will _never_ be with anyone else! Do you hear me? Stop acting like a whore! If you're anyone's bitch then you're _my_ _bitch_! Anyone that could ever have you will die!"

"You pushed me away! You treated me like dirt! Like I was nothing and that it was better for me to just disappear and never come back! And now you're basically telling me that I can't be with you but I can't be with anyone else too? What the hell do you want me to do? What else do you really want from me? You've taken _everything_, Draco! The least you can do is to stay away from me! I am not anyone's property, I never will and especially not yours!" She yelled furiously at him as she tried her hardest to fight back so she could disentangle herself from his strong hold. But the more she fought back, the more he tightened his hold on her.

"No! You won't _ever_ be with anyone else because you're mine! Do you hear me? You're mine!" He shouted before brutally capturing her lips with a hot, searing kiss.

She neither kissed him back nor did she let him in and it frustrated him. He bit her lower lip, making her gasp and he took the opportunity to venture in. He kissed her for all he was worth, moaning in pleasure like he had travelled the desert looking for that single drop of water.

The kiss was too intense that she could even taste blood on her own lips that he had currently been abusing.

She had already committed it to her memory on how his kisses tasted. But not like this. This one screamed possession, almost obsessive and abusive. It was almost like he'd been holding this out for quite too long that he had suddenly lost control.

He was pinning her against the wall, touching every inch of her that he could reach like he had really gone crazy.

It was scaring her.

He wasn't really hurting her, but he wasn't being gentle as well.

"Stop it! L-Let go," she pleaded as his head surged forth into the crook of her neck, giving off open mouthed kisses, sucking and nipping in the process.

He was out of control. His hands were everywhere, they were rough as they fondled on her breasts through her shirt. But it just wasn't enough for him.

Suddenly his fingers were fumbling on her blouse, finally ripping it apart when he lost his patience, yanking on her shirt and sending the buttons flying and falling into the floor.

Hermione was just too scared now. His actions were becoming more and more frantic when he felt the contact of their scorching skin together.

She could feel his want tugging in the barriers of his trousers. He was desperately thrusting his hips into hers as he worked his mouth on her throat. Hermione didn't want to admit it, but he just _knew_ what he was doing, as if he had learned by rote everything in her, enough to know the right spots he could touch and maul to pleasure her…

She was losing her sense of rationality and control now, every pressure from his mouth seemed to throw her over the edge.

It just felt too good; it was too hard to stop her eyes from closing.

She was so close to abandonment.

She was just so close to giving him what he wanted.

Until that image of Hestia Carrow, screaming and moaning his name suddenly burned her mind.

_Of course_ he knew what he was doing. He knew just how to take her over the edge. He knew the right places to stroke or touch.

_He knew_… but it wasn't because he knew everything in her. It was just because he had done it to countless of girls before her.

She wasn't just the only one and she would never be.

It was like a bucket of ice water was suddenly viciously poured into her heated skin; like killing the flame of the beacon by a single swish, leaving those embers and ashes to be trampled away like dirt…

_Dirt._

"Let go of me!" She cried, mustering all her strength to finally push him away. He was too caught up with kissing and touching her that he hadn't seen it coming, making him almost fall back into the marble floor when she pushed him with all her might.

"Dammit!" He cursed but she just slapped him again.

"Go to hell!" She spat acrimoniously at him, and right now, she really meant the words literally.

"No matter what you'll do, you still can't hide the fact that you're in love with _me_. Stop bitching around with those guys because it won't take you anywhere! Do you hear me? I'm the only guy in your life, Hermione. You can't hide away from it. Stop trying too hard because no matter what, you can't do a damn thing about it!"

"You're just so unfair, aren't you?" She laughed in indignation. "You're a selfish _bastard_! You act like you own me but humiliate me in public. You tell me—no, you _command_me never to see any guys but you won't have me, either. And now you're accusing me of being a bitch? Well, I tell you what, maybe I can be one. If I'm a _bitch_ now, it's all because of _you_. You made me one. And thank you very much!" She spat bitterly before running away from him.

He didn't stop her this time. He even neither uttered a single word nor moved from his spot. But Hermione didn't want to linger on his disturbed expressions at the moment.

Why should she even care of what he was feeling? He had never cared about what she felt before.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

It was only starting to get fair. She would never stop it for foolhardiness and folly again.

When Hermione finally got inside the sleeping quarters, she couldn't help but let the tears she had been holding on to fall. But she was proud of herself for not shedding a single drop in front of him.

She was crying but laughing at the same time. Maybe she looked like she had finally crossed that string of insanity, maybe she really did, but she didn't care one bit.

Because at least now, no matter how stupid it looked, she wasn't just crying alone any longer.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Impossible" by Shontelle (I love this song!)**

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and for waiting for this chapter. Hope you like this one. Since I've updated a bit too late, then I guess a longer chapter can compensate? Hehe.**

**And I've also updated some new pictures at photobucket for the story. You can view them at my profile. If the link doesn't work, try to open the older ones and get inside its album: "Almost Perfect, Almost Yours". Everything is in there. :) God bless and have a good day you guys!**

**Many kisses,**

**Sue**


	27. To Hide My Heart

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

"**To Hide My Heart"**

**19th December 1996, Scotland **

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry **

**Gryffindor Girl's Dormitory**

Going back to where you have started is not an easy task.

You have to walk back, knowing that you have walked on the wrong path, the wrong road, the wrong pavement; you have read the wrong signs, or ignored the warnings written with cheap rusty paints.

It's about accepting a fault that you have made because you have failed to see the dark clouds behind that mound that the roadway went through. Because you hadn't been cautious enough. Because you were careless.

You didn't know, and you have placed your heart on your sleeve, together with the anticipation of your first love's shelter.

The worst part, perhaps, is the fact that you have to accept you were wrong and you needed to let go of everything along the way in order to start a new crossing, because your story was washed away by the waters of the angry sky and you needed to write again.

Throwing the hurt makes your burden lighter, but it also means you have to throw and bury away the hidden flowers, hidden kisses and the promises that were sweetly made.

Hermione Granger had perfectly known this should happen somehow. She just needed to go back rather than to continue on with a heavy heart. The rain was causing the strength left inside of her to be washed and be faded away, and she needed to retreat away, or else she would fall down and bleed again, and again.

"A-Are you really serious?" Ginny had to ask for the umpteenth time as she stared at the pear-shaped diamond, with sparkling teardrop-shaped green lustre and emeralds. It was now adorning her neck as Hermione had already fastened its lock around her, but even then, the younger girl still couldn't touch it. Ginny could swear she had never been near to this kind of fortune all her life.

The girls were both inside their room, currently fitting their newly bought gowns to wear for the Slug Club Party the following day as they were both members of Professor Slughorn's club. Hermione wasn't really fond of anything that went inside the club meetings, but she found it comforting that both Harry and Ginny were members of it as well so she didn't have to be alone.

"I'm serious. It's yours now," Hermione smiled softly as she sat on the bed, looking at Ginny who was still standing in front of the mirror, gaping at the large diamond adorning her neckline; still unable to decide whether to touch it or not.

"But Hermione… Why?" Ginny whispered, almost hesitantly. She knew where her question would lead, but she also wanted to be there for her friend. She knew Hermione was still struggling to move on somehow. For the past months she had seen Hermione accommodating some of her suitors, and that included Theodore Nott from the Slytherin house.

Ginny was still rooting for her brother to woo her, but she also knew she couldn't just make the move for him. Ron had been incredibly reticent of his feelings for Hermione and Ginny knew that if Hermione ever considers waiting for him, it would take years for her to finally get over Malfoy as Ron wasn't doing anything at all; especially when he had known how straightforward and skilled his rivals were when it comes to these things.

Theodore Nott was a different story, however. Once, he had asked Hermione to go out with him at Hogsmeade and she had finally said yes. Hermione was a bit smitten when she went back, even telling her how she had really enjoyed his company, and how he had been an incredible gentleman to her when she told him she wasn't ready for any commitments yet.

She had even asked him to be her escort at the Slug Club Party.

For the past months, Ginny had noticed Hermione's improvements. She had been more outgoing and had a better disposition. She was doing well with her schoolwork and prefect duties as well.

She had laughed more and cried lesser. But somehow, her eyes were never the same as that of the girl she had first met before, when she was still with Draco Malfoy.

"It was a gift from… my past," Hermione told her quietly. Her long lashes were slightly draping the mellow glint from her eyes as she looked down.

"Oh," Ginny nodded. She knew Hermione could only be referring to a single person.

"It was very special to me before, but now, I don't think it even holds a single value to me any longer," Hermione smiled as she stood up and went nearer to her worried friend, gently putting aside some of her hair away from her face in a sisterly manner so she could stare at the diamond around her neck. "You must understand that I have to let go of him, Gin. I have held unto him for too long. I think it's time to completely let go now…"

_"I'm scared waking up one day, knowing that you can't love me anymore. I don't want that day to come. I love you too much. I don't want to lose you, Draco." _

_"You know that will never happen. I love you, okay? I don't know how that thought even entered your mind; but know this always, you're the only girl I'll ever love," Draco promised before leaning in to kiss her warmly.. "Close your eyes," he whispered into her lips, still brushing it with his own and kissing her again in the process._

_Hermione didn't need to do anything as her eyes were already closed due to the kiss, but she never opened them to obey his order._

_She gasped a little when she had finally felt the weight of something cool suddenly adorning her neckline. She could feel Draco's hands locking its end on her nape. His hand then traveled on her neck, to her shoulder and down to her arm and hand. He enveloped her hand on his own and lifted it so she could touch the smoothness of the pear-shaped stone resting in the upper middle of the swell of her breasts. It was smooth, almost slick, cold and heavy. It felt good._

_Yet nothing could ever compare on how it felt to how it looked by the time she had finally opened her eyes. She had to gasp again by the time her eyes landed on the pear-shaped diamond. It rendered her speechless._

_"Apart from the fact that you were pretty much uneasy in there, the very reason why I actually pulled you out from the gathering was to give you this. It's a family heirloom. Mother told me to give this to you once we get married, but seeing you tonight walking down that stairs and on how perfect you looked; I knew then I couldn't possibly torment this necklace to wait for two years so it could adorn your neck. No one can ever have this. This belongs to you alone and always will," he told her sincerely. His voice was so genuine…__so in love__, it almost made her cry. _

_"What am I to you, Draco?" She asked in a whisper. "Tell me what I really mean to you."_

_"You're everything to me," he smiled while gently prodding her chin to level his face. "I love you now and I will love you forever, no matter what happens. I promise. Never forget."_

"I have very simple wishes before. I didn't need all the things given to me. I just wanted to be with him, to serve him, to comfort him, to support him in everything he does. All I ever wanted was to wake up every day with him on my side; then be with him when the day is done. He was my _everything_. I had a lot of dreams as well, but he was the very first in everything. He was my home. I was this girl who was living in such a whimsical world when I was with him, not really knowing that the beautiful world he had planted for me was never permanent. Because it was never real," Hermione said calmly, despondently.

"Oh Hermione…"

"I just want you to have this, Gin. You can keep it if you want to or you can sell it. It's up to you. I just need to let go of it, and you're the only person who truly understands why," Hermione told her pleadingly.

"I understand, Hermione," Ginny nodded before hugging the friend whom she had considered her very own sister.

Hermione's heart was still in its way to healing, and she promised herself to hide it away to protect it this time.

She had been careless before, but now she had learned to be more cautious. If there was one thing she wouldn't let go of, it was the lesson; the rest, however, she needed to bury away.

Draco Malfoy didn't meddle on her business after that night two months ago when he had dragged her with him at the corner, as opposed to what she thought he would do.

She really had expected him to do something, to execute his threats, and when he didn't, she was partly relieved. But how strange it also was that no matter how she had tried so hard to stop herself from feeling disappointed, somehow, it just happened.

He just claimed her as his, even announcing how he could kill anyone who could ever have her.

And then, the following day, he walked around with his girlfriend as if nothing happened. He had even kissed her in the hallway, not caring that she was also there.

What more could she ever expect to feel for herself, then?

Yet, she knew she couldn't blame anybody. She was just so used of being the focus of all his attention. She was used that she was always the object he would fight for; that he could do anything just to have her.

But that act right there just proved her just how selfish he really was.

And she was left to pick up the pieces once again.

Was he really that of a sadist? Or he just really enjoyed toying with her emotions as if she was his very own plaything. He had pointed it clearly, anyway.

She was just his property.

Well, guess what. She refused to be one.

* * *

**20****th**** December 1996, Scotland **

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Slytherin Common Room**

"See you at the ball, Draco," Hestia Carrow softly declared as she sashayed over his boyfriend, who was then currently sitting lazily on the Slytherin common room's plush divan. She was talking about the Slug Club Christmas Party later that night. She and her twin sister were members of the infamous club and she had asked Draco to be her visitor and escort. He didn't seem to have the time to say no, so that simply meant he was coming.

She delicately kissed him on the lips to let him know that she was going to fix herself now. He neither responded nor kissed her back so she just shrugged and left. She was used to it.

"So that's why you've kept her for so long. She just gets all the bullshit you give her and she doesn't give a fuck about it," Blaise nodded as he smoked on his cigarette, its soft cloudy remnants billowing in the dim light, swirling into flexible circles. "It's been what? Two months? As far as I know, you've kept girls for just about a week or so, even lesser. So far, Hestia is your longest girlfriend after your lovely mudblood's serious two years, eh?" Blaise snickered, until his laughter died down when Draco had all of a sudden kicked the glass table, making it stumble into the carpeted floor with a loud thud, the bud vase and books had impetuously went down with it that Blaise needed to stand just so the vestiges of the broken pieces wouldn't hit him.

"I told you never to talk about her," Draco spitefully spat at him before downing his glass of whiskey in one gulp, its burning effect on his throat making him slightly grimace. This act even made him look scarier. Sometimes, Blaise would wonder if his best friend was still around inside that man, or if he was even Draco at all.

"Whoa, cool down, will you? I was just curious, okay? And sorry, I won't talk about Granger again, sheesh," Blaise held his hands up together in a conceding manner, knowing how bad it was to deal with his friend's temper.

"I don't have the time to think about any relationships right now. Hestia poses no problem, let her stay if she wants to. I don't give a shit about her. What's important is that I talked to Montague, asking him about his experience when he got pushed into the Cabinet. He said he felt like he was trapped in limbo but he could hear sounds entering the Cabinet from school as well as those from its double at Borgin and Burkes. I've talked to Borgin about the one he owns. He's been fixing it for me. The old man knows not to mess with those affiliated with the dark mark. Now all I have to concentrate fixing is the one which is located here," he said seriously while pouring another drink and snatching one cigarette to light. "The bloody thing's too difficult to fix. It had cost me a lot. But I know I can do it, eventually. I've been testing some of my theories. It should be readied in the right time."

Blaise stared at his friend almost pensively. Draco Malfoy had definitely aged as if he had just skipped half of his life. Blaise couldn't blame him, of course. Too many demands were handed to him. Ever since his father was sent to Azkaban, he was given a responsibility bigger than what he could take.

Yet, Blaise knew it wasn't just that.

He was the only person whom Draco trusted enough to be told of everything, whilst Blaise didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse for him. Knowing was just enough to give him a burden. It didn't help that he was told, anyway, because no matter what he would do, Draco was so unyielding about the decision he had made by the time he had went back from his training and was told of the truth about his ex-fiancée's blood.

He had known Draco ever since they were very young. They had met inside one of the endless societal parties that they were forced to attend. Draco had pushed him into a cake table just because he was able to get Mrs. Malfoy's attention more than he should have garnered. Draco was terribly punished after that, but Blaise also knew that even in this time, when they're both friends and were almost like brothers, Draco had never once appologise to what he had done to him.

Draco never did when he knew he didn't regret something.

He was this boy who always got what he wanted but never truly had what mattered to him most, so he had always sheltered himself with settling of scores. If he was hurt or sad or bored, somebody had to suffer as well. He always had to get even. He always had something in return.

If he wanted something, he would go to the ends of the world just to get it, even if that meant murdering an innocent man when he gets there.

Blaise knew his friend would never give this mission up.

Because there was more to it than what he was showing.

"Are you really doing this to save your parents or because of his promise that you're not even sure he can give?" Blaise asked while gradually crashing some pieces of the broken glasses strewn all over the place during the table's collision. Each pressure from his shoe created soft scratchy sounds on the carpeted floor.

"Voldemort, no matter how execrable and psychotic he can get, never breaks his word. I've learned it the hard way. There is no compensation, no concession. You fail him, you die. You succeed; you get what you want, no matter what it is as long as he had given you his word. I didn't suffer all those scrapes on my back and those broken bones every day for nothing. I'm in too deep now. I almost died, having lost almost all my blood in the process of the torture he enjoyed. But I showed him I could survive, that I could be the stronger one in this battle. In this world, there are only two kinds of people, Blaise, and that's the weak and the strong. It's up for you to choose which trail you're going to follow. There is no such thing as evil or good, that's just some bullshit made by people who are weak enough to survive. He _chose_ me. And in this world, the weak will perish, except… if the weaker one is protected by the stronger one," Draco said quietly as he played on his glass, staring at the space through its reflection.

Blaise looked at Draco and couldn't help but see the difference between his old best friend to the mature, almost scary, man in front of him now.

Even in the way he spoke, Blaise could feel the terror he could bring forth. He spoke of an evil wizard, who was capable of killing anyone in a single stare, as if he was a colleague. He spoke as if he had no soul as well.

"So, you're really going to execute what's planned? You're really going to kill—"

"That is what is expected of me to do," Draco cut him calmly.

"So you'll be a murderer," Blaise sounded accusatory, but it did not affect him.

"I already am a death-eater, being a murderer doesn't really make a single difference," Draco answered, his dark, almost dead eyes were still staring at that particular distance Blaise couldn't see.

"You're really going to do it just to get what you want, huh?" Blaise uttered. "You're crazy, Draco."

Draco never said anything back but just stood up and went directly to his room to fix himself for the party.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Flowers for a Ghost" by Thriving Ivory (PLEASE listen to it, beautiful song with a beautiful message. I'm dedicating it to Draco this time).**

* * *

**A/N Thank you for all the reviews dears! :D Stay tune! We are nearing my favourite parts! So excited to write them! God bless all :)**

**Little info: **

**Slug Club- It is a club for Professor Horace Slughorn's favourite students at Hogwarts. He selected students by their potential fame and talent or their influential relatives. **

**Hestia Carrow - attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the 1990s. Her twin sister's name is Flora Carrow. They were both sorted into Slytherin and became members of the Slug Club during 1996-1997.**

**Ginny Weasley became a member of the Slug Club for being talented on casting the Bat-Bogey Hex. She was also a top student. **

**Hermione Granger became a member of the Slug Club for being the best student in her year.**

**Blaise Zabini became a member of the Slug Club for having a powerful, rich and influential mother.**

**Draco Malfoy didn't become a member of the Slug Club because even though Lucius Malfoy was a past member of it, he later on became a Death Eater and Professor Slughorn didn't want to be affiliated to such sorts. **


	28. Life for Rent

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

"**Life for Rent"**

He was staring at her.

And it was suffocating her.

Perhaps, he had the most beautiful, striking eyes in the world, or maybe it was just the power that it evoked in her.

She was in the middle of a crowded room, with her hand gently and securely tucked with her date's arm.

He was at the corner of the aisle, beside his own date, champagne on his right hand, left hand inside his pocket. Strays of blond hair were strewn over his forehead, shadowing those hypnotic, electric grey eyes.

It felt strange. She had never felt as conscious and cognizant of how she looked just as she did now. His eyes were drilling holes on her skin, making them tingle with stirring, unconscious charms.

The room was filled with distractions. People were mingling, sending each other smiles, greetings and compliments. The music was tuned perfectly into a beautiful jingle.

But all of it faded away, as if tuned out for the sheer purpose of a spotlight.

She was suddenly standing on an empty theater, completely bare, stripped from everything except her soul.

And he was there.

_Just there_, looking at her like it was the only reason everything existed.

It was like magnet, pulling her towards those glorious, baronial, august eyes; that there was a whirlwind along her peripheral vision, so that she was blinded to the background and her focal point was just those globes of grey staring directly at her.

She could feel that strange, familiar butterflies on her stomach, travelling towards her already booming heart. The eccentric sensations were gliding into her spine and to the depths of her skin, sending Goosebumps on her nape and peculiar electricity towards her toes.

It seemed almost like a lifetime when he had last openly looked at her this way. And now when he was doing it, Hermione couldn't look away as well.

She had tried too hard to push everything away. But she was tired of running. She was tired of being the one to always give up.

If he wanted her to participate in this staring game he's having, then so be it. She wouldn't try to push it away. She wouldn't let him see she was the weaker one any longer.

She was already caught staring back, why fight it, really? When she knew she would only be losing and torturing herself in the process.

She was tired of caring about anything. She was tired of thinking. She was tired of fighting to know that by doing it, she was actually losing.

So she would give the pretense up, just this once.

She would allow her eyes to seek the person they wanted to dedicate their uses with, just because she was too tired of trying to rebel against her own involuntary senses.

She would give it up this time, just to prove that she was never giving up the fight; no matter how paradoxical it sounded.

And because he was beautiful…

As the lights of the party started creeping on his pale skin, they glowed brighter; like everything was black and white, and he was that single reflection of hue on an afterglow of rain.

When you look down on the dampness of a certain pavement on a lonely night, with the city lights glowing with it, you just have to stop and stare… because you just have to.

He was the phenomenon.

And she was the aficionada.

She could turn around and never look back, but that actuality would and always remain with her, like a shadow that even the greatest Peter Pan could never let go.

"_What are you doing, Mione? Stop it. You'll hurt your eyes," Little Draco scolded his giggling playmate as she looked directly into the sun, with her hand serving as a sunshade, gently spreading her little fingers then closing them again to let its brightness elucidate and dance on her skin, like little dancing lights on a party. _

"_Why?" She frowned when Draco had finally snatched her away while protectively covering her eyes with his own hand. "The sun is beautiful, Draco."_

"_No it's not. It hurts your eyes when you look directly at it. It's just a ball of fire," Draco told her matter-of-factly. _

"_But it creates a lot of things. It creates colours and hues. It makes the waters shimmer when it hits them. It creates rainbows. And it makes your hair even prettier," Hermione beamed at him while playfully stroking his blond hair, its soft strands silkily spilling out of her fingers._

"_I'm not pretty. I'm a boy," Draco scowled, but didn't stop her from stroking his hair. He loved the feel of it._

_Hermione giggled. "But I like pretty things. And you're one," she smiled, which made his pale cheeks redden a little._

_He harrumphed and looked away. "Still, I'm not pretty. And the sun is ugly, whatever it does to things, I don't care."_

"_But I do," Hermione whispered. "I like the sun. Even if it hurts my eyes, I'll still look at it because it's pretty."_

"_It's just pretty because it's far away from you. I've read about it, and it just burns you when you get closer. You'll just get burned and die with it, like those moths killing themselves for the sake of being near to the flames. Mother told me the story of a moth once, about how it died because it wanted to get closer to the flames of the candle. Moths are stupid," Draco shook his head in incredulity. "I won't ever kill myself just because I find something pretty."_

"_I don't really think moths are stupid. It's in their nature to fly around lights. If they just kept themselves in the dark, then they'll live a really lonely life. I think it's better to live a short and happy life than to live a long but lonely one," Hermione told him._

_Draco kept quiet for a while. Until he took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. "I don't want you to get burned or die. I want you safe, with me. Always," Draco told her sincerely. He looked really worried and scared of what she just said. _

"_Still it's beautiful, and even if it hurts, I just can't stop myself from staring at it," Hermione smiled, "but I promise to always be with you, Draco. Even if you become the sun, I'll hurt myself just to be with you."  
_

"_Silly girl," Draco chuckled while pinching little Hermione's nose. "That won't happen because no matter what, I'll never allow you to get burned and be hurt."_

"_I know, because you'll save me anyway, right?" _

"_Of course I will. I won't let anything happen to you."_

'Thus hath the candle singd the moath'; Shakespeare had once pointed out.

Hermione couldn't help but smile bitterly in the memory of it.

He was her very own candle, and her wings had just been permanently burned.

Maybe Shakespeare was right in most things. But most things aren't everything.

"I think I need a little bit of air, Theo. Will you excuse me for a while?" Hermione suddenly asked her date, who seemed to frown worriedly at her, knowing where her peripheral vision had been travelling for a while.

"I'll go with you," Theodore Nott offered.

"Please, I just need a minute alone. Is that okay?" Hermione asked him. The more she stayed, the more it burned her.

"Anything for you then, love," Theo smiled, kissing her hand gently before letting her walk away, albeit hesitantly.

When she finally reached the balcony, she couldn't help but breathe out the amount of air she'd been holding back a while ago, although she really didn't know she'd been holding back anything.

These were just one of those moments where insanity really was just a thread away from her.

He could evoke the strongest of all feelings in the world to her, and it's just so, so unfair; as if nothing she had was truly hers.

"When will you ever stop making yourself always out in the open?" A familiar voice had startled her that she almost felt her heart go out of its confines. She didn't need to turn around or look at the person who owned them.

Draco Malfoy slowly walked on the opposite side of the balcony's railings. The veranda wasn't that spacey, so it didn't make any difference.

"Always, always susceptible to anything," he tsked, shaking his head a little and languidly lighting a cigarette and smoking it in the cold night.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at him. She knew he had tried smoking before, just due to his peers' influence. But he was never really a smoker. If he did smoke, he'd usually just do it alone; nevertheless, it was always never in front of her.

Now he was doing it boldly, almost unconsciously, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She really wasn't against it, but it was just so unlike him to do that.

Or maybe, he really wasn't her Draco anymore.

"You changed," she suddenly whispered quietly. She didn't know why. But the muted sound from the inside of the party seemed too far away; almost like they were on a different place. It just seemed like she just needed to speak in that moment. The breeze was prodding her to do so. It was automatic.

"Everyone does," he just shrugged. "Life is for rent," he added thoughtfully.

"I guess so," she nodded, looking away. "Well, good luck with that," she added. The past two months had been quiet. No arguments. No fight or even cold stares. There was tension, yes. But it was almost imperceptible. It provided space to think. It felt rather strange that they were talking civilly now. She guessed time could somehow alleviate some of the pain, even if it couldn't really heal a thing.

Draco was quiet for a while, like her words created an immense impact on him. He looked troubled. She always knew he was when he would run his hand on his hair that way. He was smoking way too much as well, that she even had to wince imagining all those nicotine and tar getting inside his lungs as he sucked way too deep than the usual.

"Stay inside the party tonight," he suddenly commanded. "Stop being too reckless, like your impossible self is. Stop wandering around, even just this once." His tone was too serious, it made her uneasy.

"What do you mean?" She asked as he swiftly turned around to go.

He didn't turn his back to stare at her, but he stood still for a while. "Look at you now, going out of the party alone. You're too naïve. Get inside. Stop being too at risk," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked him, but he didn't answer and just continued on walking away.

She was rooted on the spot for a while, mulling over his words that seemed like a stern warning. She decided to follow him and talk to him about it, but when she went out of the balcony and into the party, he was already nowhere to be found.

The place was beautiful, with people smiling and talking to each other here and there, enjoying the party, mingling and participating in interesting debates.

But he wasn't there anymore.

The sinking feeling of loneliness had suddenly crept inside her.

It was incongruous, standing in between of the sea of people, but feeling like you're the only one left on earth.

She was wearing the high heels she had carefully picked with Ginny. But she felt like she was barefooted, standing on that stinging cold, marble floor.

She felt alone, vulnerable, nothing…

Her wings got burned again.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

She looked around and saw her best girl friend, Ginny. She looked really pretty with her delicate cerulean coloured dress, in which Hermione was proud to be the one to have chosen for her.

"You look really pretty, Gin," Hermione smiled fondly at the younger girl whom she had considered as her sister. Somehow, Ginny could always lighten her mood.

"Thank you. So do you, Mione," Ginny smiled back excitedly. "I really knew that dress would look really good on you from the moment we saw it at the boutique."

Both the girls had exerted some effort on the dresses and accessories they would have at the ball. It was so much fun picking each other's clothes, shoes and accessories.

When Ginny had pointed it out however, it was the only time when Hermione apprehended why there seemed to be something lacking with her best mate's outfit.

"You didn't wear the necklace," Hermione mentioned, sounding too relieved than what she had intended to, knowing what really would have happened if Draco Malfoy ever saw it on her. Ginny had already fitted her dress with the necklace and it was stunning in her. Hermione really hadn't expected Draco to show up at the party. She knew he was still together with Hestia Carrow but she had overheard her over the meeting mentioning that she was going with someone else since her boyfriend wasn't interested in escorting her. Hermione was even shocked to have seen him tonight, all the more when they had that strange conversation at the balcony.

"It's in my purse," Ginny confessed, holding up her sapphire hued beaded coin purse. "I mean, it's a bit huge and eye-catching, and I was wondering whether or not Harry's going to ask about it," she added while blushing.

Harry and Ginny hadn't officially dated yet despite of his obvious fondness with the red head and this was the first time he finally got the courage to ask her to the ball.

"I already was wearing it a while ago. It looks really gorgeous with the dress, Mione," she sighed. "But when I saw Harry sitting at the common room while waiting for me, thousands of thoughts suddenly entered my mind; I was very nervous, you know. This is the first time that he'd actually showed that there can be more between us. I mean, I know and I've noticed how he would look at me on our meetings, but this is actually the first time he's ever asked me out. I wanted it to be perfect. I suddenly felt paranoid that he would assume things when he would see me with the necklace. You know that we're… not exactly that rich, Mione, and the necklace is probably worth more than my father's earnings for ten years," Ginny explained, blushing in a bit of discomfiture and clutching her purse as if she really had a hidden treasure inside it. Well, she did have one, to be exact. "I have no time to get it back to my room since Harry already saw me just after I got the necklace off. I had no choice but to place it inside my bag then."

"I understand, Gin. And I'm so sorry for giving you that kind of burden. I think it's just best for you to sell it," Hermione replied, suddenly questioning her own self for that reckless idea. It seemed like the only option to get rid of it. It was Draco's sign of his claim on her, and she felt desperate to get it as far as possible from her. The engagement ring he had given her was brutally snatched by Narcissa Malfoy herself from her finger by the time she had known her real roots, and the necklace was the only bond Hermione still had with Draco, somehow.

"Are you sure?" Ginny frowned at her, noticing her perturbed actions.

"I can't send it back to Draco. The past months have been quiet and I want it to stay that way. It will just open the issues between us and I really don't want to go back in there. I don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Just sell it, Gin. I think it is better that way," Hermione reasoned, squeezing her palms together. Her stomach now hurt a little for too much clenching.

"But Hermione, if I do, you know that you're never going to have it back anymore," Ginny told her warningly.

"And that's exactly what I want, right? To not ever have it back?" Hermione quietly said. She was trying to sound rhetorical, but her traitorous voice failed her. It was as if she was questioning her own decision.

"You don't sound like you're convinced," Ginny frowned, appraising her friend's conflicted expression.

"Why? Do you think I'll ever want it back? I already gave it to you. I'll never have it back," Hermione shook her head in a defensive manner; suddenly, breathing was a tedious job to do.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. But I think I know you better than that," Ginny smiled sadly at her.

"Gin, please. Just—I don't know, sell it away, throw it into the lake, I don't care! I just need it away from me!" Hermione suddenly shouted, until she noticed that she had already gone overboard with her unnecessary outburst. Her friend was now staring at her as if she had just transformed into a scary dementor.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Gin. I'm just a bit shaken right now. I didn't mean to shout at you," Hermione uttered, looking truly embarrassed of her temporary outburst.

"It's okay Mione. You know that I understand what you're going through right now. Let's just forget about it for now, okay? We're inside a party, let's just forget about some useless jerk and enjoy everything for the night," Ginny told her while interlacing their arms together.

Hermione couldn't help it. She just had to embrace her friend.

"You're my best, best friend, Ginny. Thank you for everything," Hermione whispered, holding her friend tightly.

"You know you always got by back, okay? I love you Mione," Ginny beamed at her as they broke their embrace.

"I love you too, Gin. Thank you for always being here for me," Hermione nodded, scolding her own lips for suddenly trembling and her stupid eyes for unexpectedly watering. Why was she always an emotional wreck whenever she just got closer with Draco Malfoy even for a single second? She hated the guy. It was her brain's daily mantra to her heart for the past months.

"Don't you dare let a single tear fall in front of me, or I'll smack you in the head even if I was the one who did your pretty hairstyle today! Now let's just go and enjoy alright? Later this night, you won't have me anymore as I'll be busy snogging Harry Potter," Ginny told her blatantly, making her chuckle on her friend's audacity; her unshed tears temporarily forgotten.

Maybe Ginny was right.

Maybe this night was really going to be just fine.

She just had to wait and see.

* * *

"It's done," Draco Malfoy promptly announced as he entered the Slytherin common room. "But we have a problem."

Blaise stood up, rubbing his neck by the time he saw his friend get inside the dungeon. Draco's hair was a mess, his robes filled with soot and dusts. He was breathing heavily and his shirt inside was already soaked with his own sweat, setting off those beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

"Why? What happened?" Blaise asked quietly. "Did you… do it?"

Draco was pale as a ghost and was already visibly shaking, but he stood his ground, his head still held high with pride and honour as he uttered his next word: "Yes."

"Bloody… fucking… hell," Blaise shook his head, still in a daze, never truly knowing how to take in the fact of what he was just told.

"Y-You killed Dumbledore? You r-really did it? How?" He just had to ask again.

"I told you it must be done, so I did it. The old man didn't seem to have enough strength for a duel. He seemed to accept his death more than I have expected him to. It was a disappointment, really. Snape tried to take my glory, but I took the action before he could steal it away from me. I promised the dark lord. He gave me his word and I gave him mine. I proved to him my worth and now he trusts me more than his subjects. It's as simple as that," Draco told his friend flatly. If he ever still had any conscience at all then he was good on not showing any.

"S-So what's wrong now? You just said we have a problem," Blaise frowned.

"The death eaters want more bedlam to ensue. They've been out of control once they have gotten inside the portal cabinet that I've fixed; even more when they've learned that I've finally killed the headmaster. We need to get away as far as possible from the castle. The dark lord has called me to fix some matters with him before claiming my price. While I do that, get her to safety. Never leave without her, do you understand? We'll meet at the heart of the forbidden forest," Draco instructed, before turning around for yet another task.

"I'll be on it. Good luck, Draco."

"I don't need it," Draco uttered before shutting the portrait hole.

* * *

"What did he tell you?"

Hermione had almost lost her grip on her pumpkin juice by the time Theo had whispered behind her. Sometimes, he could really scare her on how he could move stealthily and creep in on her.

She had enjoyed her night with him of course, but he had been incredibly quiet and troubled after her little staring contest with Draco hours ago. Not that she could really blame him, of course. Her mind had been flying a constant mile ever since she had her talk with Draco at the balcony.

"_Stop being too reckless, like your impossible self is. Stop wandering around, even just this once."_

What was that supposed to mean? He'd been gone for hours now. What did he do? She stared at his girlfriend, Hestia Carrow, just on the opposite table and she was happily chatting with her twin sister, not noticing her escort's absence.

But it's been hours and still, Draco was nowhere in sight…

"When will you really forget about him?" Theo suddenly uttered, now sitting beside her. He was sipping on his whiskey but Hermione still didn't miss the hint of sadness and confliction on his face.

"Theo, I just…" She faltered. She honestly didn't know what to say.

"You're being too obvious, you know. I ignore it, just because I know you're still trying to move on. But bloody hell, that's just abnormal as shit, Hermione. You've been pining for a guy who kept on playing with your head over and over again, giving you this mixed signals, and then spitting on your face after. For once, will you just stop closing your eyes and just see the person in front of you? I have never been this patient to a girl before, dammit. Do you even know that?" Theo told her, looking truly frustrated.

"I-I don't do that! I don't love him anymore. You know for a fact that I hate him, Theo," Hermione defended herself, but even that she couldn't really speak confidently of.

"Really? Prove it then," Theo suddenly whispered, looking her straight in the eyes in a serious, challenging manner. "Kiss me."

Hermione didn't know what to do the moment those words had left his mouth, all the more when he had suddenly bent down to kiss her straight on the lips.

The kiss was very tentative at first, with just soft strokes and brushes over her lips, almost experimental… teasing, coaxing them to part for him. He cupped her cheeks as a way to ask her for entry, and so she did.

It was a beautiful open-mouthed kiss, very sensual even.

But all she could see and feel and smell and taste was… Draco Malfoy.

She tried so hard to focus on the sensation, even opening her fluttered eyes a little just so she could take a peek and convince herself that she was kissing Theodore Nott, but to no avail, all she could see was Draco's spellbindingly beautiful eyes…

No… No… No…

Everything was just so wrong.

It didn't feel right one bit.

At first, she really thought the reason was just because Draco was the only guy she had ever kissed.

Perhaps she had just been venturing a new territory and it was all so new to her.

But, it just seemed so _wrong_.

She was _wrong_.

There was really no use in comparing kisses at all, even on how good they were. Because Draco, alone, could make her feel that certain spark that she couldn't quite comprehend.

There was nothing _wrong_ with Theo's kisses. It was luscious and good, in fact. But it was just the mere fact that he was Theodore Nott, and he would _never ever_ be Draco Malfoy…

"What's wrong?" Theo asked when she had suddenly lightly pushed him away.

"I-I'm so sorry, Theo," she could only shake her head and look down, feeling the guilt in her system eating her alive each second.

Theo had been nothing but considerate to her for the past months. She really hadn't intended to lead him on like this. She just really thought he really wouldn't stick around that long.

She had been so sure that his intention was only to have her for a moment then discard her just like what he had done to his past conquests, but as time went by, she had actually seen his efforts and on how incredibly patient he had been with her.

So she had accepted his courtship, hoping that she would at least feel something for him.

But it turned out she really couldn't fall in love with someone because no matter what she did, she still hadn't moved on.

She liked Theo, she really did.

But she just couldn't place everything in her to focus on that emotion; when clearly, she still had a stronger, more potent one to another man.

She suddenly felt mean and unjust.

She didn't really know it would amount to this.

She knew the feeling of being rejected, and she had learned it the hard way.

It just hurt to think that she, herself, was causing the same thing to another.

"I-I'm so sorry, Theo. I really am," she whispered wretchedly at him.

"Me too," Theo looked hurt, but he sounded cold. It was his way of protecting his feelings, she understood.

"Theo, you know that we can still be friends… I—"

"Well, that's just great, right? Thank you for the fucking invitation. Congratulations for messing me up. Now you're even with Malfoy," he spat before standing up to walk away.

"You're the one who started this up! You're the one who wants to make things complicated! Well, I'm sorry if I can't feel anything for you, okay? But don't throw everything at me as if I'm the one at fault here!" She suddenly shouted at him while also standing up to at least lessen their incredible height difference. She had to say something. She had to at least convince herself that she didn't just do to someone the thing that Draco did to her.

But it was too late.

"You're just like _him_."

"Theo! Theo, come back! Please!" She was pleading now as he wouldn't even listen while walking away with his long strides, inserting himself to some of the people in the ball so he could lose her.

"Theo!" She kept shouting while forcing her stilettos to cooperate with her fast pace; until she suddenly realised that she wasn't the only one who was shouting now.

"Hey!" She uttered when some bodies were now harshly bumping into hers. She looked around and saw people screaming and panicking. She tried to see what was happening and had almost vomited when a dead body had directly flown down right in front of her, in time for her to catch it and be face to face with its dead, horror-filled eyes.

Everything just went too fast.

There was no warning. Only screams.

She couldn't even utter a single shout as she struggled to get away from the corpse and ran as fast she could with everyone else. She could see people with hoods shooting some unforgivables, including death curses here and there.

Everything was a chaos.

Tables were suddenly turned upside down and the beautiful costly drapes designed for the ball were viciously strewn into pieces as if some clawed animal just destroyed them.

Some of the students were screeching and screaming for help, as the door of the room was then brutally shut by an indiscernible magic, some had even resorted on jumping out of the balcony just to spare the brutality of the men inside, killing themselves in the process.

Hermione was running as fast as she could, wand in hand, but never really truly knowing where to go. She had found her voice now and was now shouting for Harry and Ginny but they were nowhere to be found.

She screamed harder when a man had suddenly groped her waist. He was too strong that she thought she really was going to die that second.

"Calm the fuck down, Granger!" It was Blaise Zabini. He was now trying to restrain her and she couldn't get a better hold on her wand knowing that he was actually holding it too tightly as well.

"What are you doing? Let go of me, Zabini! I have to find Ginny and the others!"

"There's no time! We need to go!" Blaise commanded while dragging her away towards the balcony. He appeared to have a broom in hand.

"Another victim, Zabini?" One of the hooded men sneered at them, on his arms was Lavender Brown, drowning in muffled screams as his large hand squeezed almost all of her face.

"No," Blaise answered callously, looking at the man as if he was daft. "This is the girl," he continued.

"Oh, so that's her, huh? Good that you found her. Now we can start the real party. You have only seconds then, Zabini. This place is going to blow up. Take whatever victims you want and secure the girl," the man told him.

"I know that, stop meddling with my work," Blaise scoffed at him before completely hauling Hermione with him into the balcony for his planned escape.

"You're one of them!" Hermione shouted in horror as she was swiftly yanked by the arm to force her to get on the broom with him.

"Just shut up and cooperate, will you? I'm trying to save your arse here!" He shouted at her but she suddenly bit his hand, _hard_.

"Oh fuck! Shit! You bitch!" Zabini yelped while nursing his bleeding arm, causing Hermione's wand to fall into the floor. Taking her stolen opportunity, she then hurriedly picked it up and ran directly back into the room.

"Ginny! Harry!" She yelled, trying to surpass the horde of people screaming and shrieking in terror.

She could still hear Blaise Zabini's voice furiously calling her name, but it was nothing compared to all the screams of help coming from the people around the room.

She was even sure it was very much futile to scream Harry and Ginny's name at this moment but she didn't care. She just wanted to make sure they were alright.

"Harry! Ginny!" She screamed once more when she heard an explosion coming from the center of the room, then a roaring, billowing noise. She gasped as she saw what it was. A death-eater was diabolically waving his wand in the center, concentrating on an incantation Hermione believed to be that from the dark arts.

Her heart stopped when she heard him utter the words. It sounded familiar from one of those restricted books Draco had kept with him before.

Until she suddenly realised.

He was going to create a _fiendfyre_…

It was a cursed fire that would pursue nearby life forms as if it were alive itself; dark magic to its purest. It could take on any shape of fire-breathing monsters, continually mutating into deadlier ones second by second, with enough consciousness to follow its victims, instantly burning and killing them all.

The door was closed and the only way was through the balcony, and this room was located at one of the top most towers of the castle.

They were all going to die inside…

* * *

"Where is she?" Draco demanded, staring at his friend's unaided form. Blaise' nose was filled with soot, with wounds and scrapes all over his once unblemished olive skin. His robe was scorched a little, indicating that he had barely escaped a fire.

"I-I'm so sorry, Draco. She escaped from me. She even bit me! I tried so hard to get her back, but I couldn't find her anymore. I had to go. It has gotten out of hand. The death-eaters aren't choosing who to kill anymore. They wanted the whole place to explode. They casted a fiendfyre in the party itself! I tried really hard to look for her, man… but I j-just—"

"I'm just asking _one fucking question_, Blaise! Where _the fuck_ is Hermione?" Draco asked him outrageously, he seemed to look paroxysmal now, like he could kill someone in another second if they couldn't show him where Granger was.

"Malfoy! Zabini!" Both looked around and saw Montague, Crabbe and Goyle running into their direction. They looked as if they had just managed to dodge the fire as well, as even the side of Goyle's cape was still burning a little.

"W-We tried to look for the survivors as you have asked us, Zabini, but there was no one in there, except those burnt bodies. The fiendfyre that was casted was too powerful," Montague shook his head. "A-And we…" he trailed off before getting something out of his pocket. "T-This is inside of the purse of one of the girls who had been a victim of it. W-We couldn't recognise her any longer because her body was already burnt, b-but… her purse h-has this necklace with the Malfoy crest on it and—"

There was silence as Draco snatched the necklace Montague was holding. Blaise could swear there was nothing more comparable to what Draco Malfoy had looked that very moment as he held the necklace into his shaking hand.

He fell into the ground, on his knees, clutching the diamond treasure until his knuckles bleed with the pressure.

The last thing they heard was Draco Malfoy's feral scream…

More people were going to be killed tonight.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Life for Rent" by Dido**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! It had been a very busy week for me, work plus my birthday! But I have told myself to update on my birthday since, at some point, I just feel like I should really have to after all those long updates I've been doing for quite some time now and I know I've been pretty bad for making you guys wait for that long. But I ended up going out with friends, having a blast the whole day until night and so when I went home, I started on doing my update until morning the following day and, all stressed up and everything, I ended up being absent at work. So, yeah… lol. **

**But anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. Stay tuned in! And thanks to everyone who sent me birthday wishes in my inbox in here and in my FB. I like it whenever people greet me happy bday and attach my name with Tom Felton since we have the same birth date, although I need to point out he's 2 years older than I am (makes me feel younger, lol). I haven't opened my twitter yet, but I'll be doing just that just after I crash on my bed for a rest. I hate that I've been neglecting my own health. I barely sleep at all; sometimes I don't even sleep anymore! But I feel like I'm getting older and I need to do EVERYTHING! Haha. **

**Thanks again everyone! And sorry for my late chapters. Have a blessed day. Love you!**

**Kisses from Sue :)**


	29. The Lesser Evil

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

"**The Lesser Evil"**

**The Burrow, 22****nd**** December 1996**

**Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, England**

Everything was a blur.

_Smoke…_

The last and only thing she remembered was… smoke.

Hermione could barely breathe with too much of it.

It was plaguing every bit of what was left of her.

All that she ever wanted was for it to go away.

She didn't want to give up. Her mind was screaming at her to do something, to keep going, to haul each and every person out of that forsaken, burning place.

But she just couldn't function anymore.

Her throat was burning, like she had just ingested fire itself, and she needed to cough and waste more air. She tried to cast _aguamenti_ on herself, soaking her dress and covering her nose with the drenched hem of her clothing to inhale most of the oxygen left; breathing like mad for the heavy moisture.

She knew that water from Aguamenti evaporates prior to contact to the curse and there was no known counter-curse for that certain dark magic so she couldn't use it on the fiendfyre itself, but she could still use it as protection just as long as the fire didn't reach her yet.

The fumes were already invading her lungs. She couldn't even drag herself to get near the opened balcony. She felt like something was pulling her down, constricting her into a tight deathly grip, like someone was trying to suffocate her by clenching on her neck.

It was one of those times when your mind fights with your body. Everything was just pulling you down, ushering you to give up but you just couldn't because you know that when you start closing your eyes, you could never open them again.

And so she crawled. Even if she could barely move, she tried so hard because her life depended on it.

Maybe her existence wasn't much for some people, even to Draco Malfoy.

She could burn and die and maybe he wouldn't really care. He was a rich pureblood and he could get any girl he wanted. Maybe he'd feel a bit guilty for a while when she's dead, maybe, for some sheer luck, he'd remember her… but then, that was just it.

He could just move on as if nothing happened.

She had real, good friends. Of course, they would remember her. But who was she really to get hold of their memories? They would remember her, but she would fade away in time, somehow.

Who really needed her that bad that she could stay, anyway?

Even Theo hated her now. Not that she could blame him. It was her fault somehow.

But Nanny Demelza loved her.

And what about the old family she had grown up with? She didn't have that much news from her old family anymore, except on Adrian who would often check on her through his letters. But she had grown up with them. They were still her family, somehow. She knew they loved her as much as she did by some means.

And what about her real parents? She couldn't let them suffer again. Having lost their memories once was hard enough. She hadn't even spent enough time with them yet.

She couldn't give up.

But everything was just slipping away.

The large number of embers being blown by the scorching wind suddenly looked like those gorgeous falling leaves on their large garden before.

When she was a child, she loved looking up at those giant trees, extending her arms at the sides for abandon, turning around and around until she would feel dizzy and fall on the ground.

She would smile at the beautiful kaleidoscope of images, as the leaves from the trees would fall on her face as she laid there.

Sometimes, she wished everything was still very simple. She would often wonder before why adults were so uptight of everything. She told herself never to be like that even if she grows older, never to get boring, and never to abandon her little world.

She had always thought she could just stay and make it all forever.

But everything just couldn't last.

Yet, right there, flashes of memories came whirling on her flighty, woozy state.

And it felt like she had just played on that garden once again. She had just turned around and around like a carousel until she got dizzy. It was suddenly all so calm.

She thought that maybe that was it.

Maybe she was just meant to die being lonely.

Closing her eyes was difficult, but she was peaceful…

And then… there was nothing but smoke.

_Smoke._

She could smell smoke again.

But this time it was mixed with the smell of cinnamon buns, freshly baked cookies and the relaxing aroma of roasted coffee beans.

It wasn't hot anymore like the last time. But it was warm… a comfortable feeling.

And everything felt so soft.

Was this simply the feeling of being gone?

Her fluttered eyes had finally opened to see a dingy, dirty white ceiling. She had to struggle to adjust with the brightness.

There was a shaft dancing around the ceiling with some moving shadows of tree branches. She moved her head to the side and saw an old looking amber textured wooden window, with damask draperies strewn to the sides to let the brightness from the outside disperse into the sunlit room.

She appeared to be in the second floor of this very homey quarter. She looked down and saw a bandage, neatly placed around her arm. She couldn't really feel any pain, just annoying throbs from the inside of the dressing.

She had small scrapes on her elbows as well, but they didn't hurt at all, much like prickled a bit.

She suddenly realised she was wearing a simple, peach nightdress, which she remembered to be Ginny's.

She looked around and realised that the belongings inside the room actually belonged to Ginny as well. She was inside Ginny's room, Ginny's home.

But where was she? Where was Ginny?

She slowly got up, a bit groggy for too much lying down, perhaps. Her throat was dry and her mouth tasted like chalk.

Her weak knees wobbled as she slowly walked near the door, still barefooted.

There were voices downstairs, like there was a commotion or a debate being ensued.

Kitchen wares were clanking; everyone seemed too busy, tensioned.

The voices sounded familiar. When she opened the creaky aged door and made tentative steps on the stilted stairs, she peered to see the people who owned them.

She was surprised on how many people were downstairs. She could actually name a few. Mr. Weasley was holding his wife, who looked like she had just cried for a year with her eyes to be that unbelievably swollen. Ron was at the sides, leaning on the wall with his head bowed in a wearisome manner. Harry was also there, beside Professor Snape himself. They were being surrounded by older, tougher looking people. She was shocked to see that Theo was there as well, an angry scar on his neck had drawn her attention, like he had just survived a near death experience.

But it wasn't just that.

It was the fact that, the entire time, they were actually talking about her…

* * *

"It must be done, Potter. It's the only way," Snape growled urgently, tensely pacing the room with his robes billowing on the stressed atmosphere.

"I will not allow anyone to die anymore," Harry growled frustratingly. It was too much for him. With everything that had happened, he was relentlessly questioning himself why the hell he was still standing here, conversing, battling with options and making decisions when all that he ever wanted to do was to lock his own self inside a room and silently cry.

Ginny was dead.

The worst thing was that he wasn't there to save her.

Ron was blaming him for everything and he couldn't take anything against him.

Ginny was his responsibility as she was his date that night.

But where was he?

He was too busy trying to save the world, ending up being as useless as ever. He had excused himself from the party to talk to Dumbledore about the Horcruxes they've located. Ginny _pleaded_ him to stay and enjoy for while, but he was too much of a 'protagonist' to do so. He promised himself to finally confess to her that he loved her after he was done that night. He never really thought it was the last time he'd see her.

Ginny held a great promise. She was supposed to be his future. There were too many things wasted just because he was too altruistic about the world which didn't really need him.

They were at the Astronomy Tower when it all happened. Dumbledore had all of a sudden performed a silent full Body-Bind curse on Harry when he had sensed someone coming.

Dumbledore wanted to protect him. He had always protected everyone.

Even his own murderer.

Draco Malfoy had disarmed Dumbledore, and the headmaster just let him. During their confrontation, Dumbledore confessed that he had known of Malfoy's mission and of his series of attempts on his life but allowed him to stay inside the Hogwarts grounds because he knew that he was going to be killed by Voldemort if his secret was exposed and if he was expelled.

But even with those words, the heartless bastard _still killed him_.

He killed him and he did it without even a single remorse on his cold, arctic face.

And Harry couldn't do anything about it. He was useless. It was frustrating, just standing there, screaming with your own thoughts, but knowing that no matter what you do, no one could hear you and you couldn't even do a single thing about it.

Now, to any further extent, he wouldn't let it happen again.

He just couldn't sacrifice anyone ever again.

"Ms. Granger is our _only_ chance, Potter. Draco doesn't listen to me anymore. He doesn't trust me, even. It has all gotten out of hand. The dark lord's initial plan was to let Draco be killed along with his mission to punish his father for his failed task. He thought Draco couldn't do it, but it all changed when he proved that he could. He just surpassed the dark lord's expectations and now he has his full support, even making the boy lead on series of killing tirades. The dark lord is too pleased of the fact that one of his greatest enemies, one of the greatest wizards of all time, Dumbledore himself, was killed by a teenage boy, the boy he himself had trained. He felt like it was an insult to Dumbledore and the dark lord is reveling on it. The dark lord is suddenly very proud of his own creation, as he would like to call it. Draco is now considered as his right hand. He knows almost everything and will never share it to any living soul. No one can ever calm him down this time, Potter… except the person he thinks is dead," Snape explained. His sullen voice was demanding; urgent.

"You can't just fucking give her to him!" Theo suddenly burst out. "I didn't save her just so you shitheads can hand her over like a meal to that psycho just to _calm_ him. You're all sick as shit! You talk of Hermione as if she's bait for the sharks!" He added. He knew the implications to what Snape was trying to say. He had grown up with the same obsessed, psychotic father. His father was a death-eater and was currently imprisoned in Azkaban after breaking into the Department of Mysteries just the previous June.

But not until he had completely broke down and killed his wife.

The previous summer, Theo's father had been too devoted with his vow to the rise of the dark lord that he even needed to train his own son to follow his footsteps; yet, Theo's mother was very different. She didn't believe in anything that her husband deemed of.

They were a product of an arranged marriage but his father had been ludicrously in love with her from the very first time they had met. Theo wouldn't call it love, however, when all he did was to beat her just to show her his _love_ and control over her. He had once told Theo that, as a male, disciplining one's partner was important, to let her see your dominance and ascendancy. It was just the way of the world.

At first, Theo had really believed in that. He used to believe that those wounds and bruises from his mother was nothing but normal, until that time when he saw her, crying and bleeding in the corner of his father's study.

It was the very first time he had seen her cry. He had often hear her screams and pleas whenever his father would 'discipline' her every night, but in the morning, even with her bruises, she would still make breakfast and smile lovingly at her husband. He would even kiss her tenderly, like she was the most beautiful, vulnerable porcelain doll in the world. That was one of the reasons why Theo had really thought everything was okay, that it was just normal just as what his father had often told him.

His parents loved each other. They could be a twisted couple but they loved each other.

But he was wrong. He should have seen it coming. He should have known that his mother and he were living with a sick psychotic being.

That was when he had finally made the decision of running away with his mother. He didn't want to be like his father. He didn't want to be a death-eater. He persuaded her to go with him, but she was just too blinded and scared to do so.

Perhaps, his father's insanity had rubbed in on her as well.

But he just wouldn't have any of it any longer, and in time, he had finally convinced her to go with him.

Alas, the fates hadn't always been exactly good to them.

They were caught. That night had haunted him ever since.

His deranged father hadn't said anything as he dragged his pleading wife into the depths of their quarters.

Theo tried to fight him but he was just too strong as dark magic was already flowing out of his system, dominating his every move and making his own son be brutally lurched into the wall.

The last thing he heard were his mother's screams before he passed out.

The following morning, he found his father on the corner of the room, rocking back and forth as he cried and held his lifeless wife into his arms…

"Y-You really can't do it. You don't know how dangerous this is," Theo shook his head in disconcertion, relieving that one particular memory was too hard for him. He'd always been stoic and strong, but it took him too much to be that kind of person.

"The girl is the only way, Mr. Nott. The dark lord's favour is on my godson now. He literally is the person in charge when the dark lord is not around. He knows most of the dark lord's secrets. He was trained personally by the dark lord himself even in the summer and no one ever knows how deep that training went. No one knows the power that lies behind the boy anymore. Even I cannot perform legilimency on him without him contradicting and breaking my head. He is _that_ powerful now. The only way to get through him is through his weakness, through that certain thread that still holds to his soul, somehow… Hermione Granger. He thinks she's dead and in every second that actuality enters his mind, he becomes more and more devoid and numb from all the feelings. He becomes the dark lord himself," Snape forebodingly explained.

"He doesn't give a single shit about Hermione! He considers her an inferior because of her blood. All that git thinks about is his own self!" Theo snarled. He looked as if he wanted to strangle his own Professor now. "You just don't understand it! You're sending an innocent girl to a murderer, a _death-eater_! You might as well have killed her!"

"You do not know anything, Nott. Yes, he does think of her as a _mudblood_. And yes, his belief about blood bigotry and chauvinism is still intact. But he _wants_ her, no matter how confusing it is to him, it's very obvious that he still wants her. I was there during his untamed temperament when he had known and thought she died. He had almost ripped his own self, injuring almost everyone who came even an inch closer. For all the years I have been with the boy, I have never seen him like that. It was going against nature. You do not know the level of possessiveness and obsession he has with the girl. He could actually sell his own soul just to get her life back, thinking that she's really gone. And that's not an empty threat at all. No. He'd been researching about the darkest surfaces of Necromancy itself, thinking he could get her back through it. He has gone mental, yes. He could do anything, yes. _But_ he'd do it for _her_. I am positive that he will never hurt the girl," Snape explained, walking around the circle, intending to let each and every ear to listen to him.

"Now, _think_ about this. If Ms. Granger is there with him, he might be able to think twice about things. I _know_ how she can very much affect him in everything. With Ms. Granger's help, we can discover the dark lord's deepest secrets, seeing how he shares some of his thoughts to Draco himself as he considers him as his apprentice at the present. By doing this, we can't just only give retribution to the people who died but we can also end everything and save what's left. We can still have justice… even on Ms. Ginny Weasley's death." Snape spoke the last words very slowly, glancing at Ron Weasley who was then shaking his head and punching the wall in frustration as his parents cried for the loss of their only daughter.

"So you're saying we should make the girl a spy? Wouldn't it be too dangerous? Not everyone can be like you, Severus," Nymphadora Tonks, a Metamorphmagus and an Auror chimed in.

"Yes, but think about this. Severus has a point," Kingsley Shacklebolt, an auror and member of the Advance Guard suddenly spoke. "The girl can be useful. Out of everyone, she's the only one we are sure Mr. Malfoy couldn't harm. We can get in the front door, but we very well know that getting in the back door can be much more successful."

"Y-You can't do it. They already killed my sister! They'll just hurt Hermione! What the bloody hell is wrong with you lot?" Ron started to speak for the first time. His voice was raw of crying, his fists almost bleeding to the assault he had done to the wall. "Say something here, Harry! You fucking know this is bullshit! Don't let them allow anyone to die again for _your own fucking safety_!"

"I don't want this, Ron! You know just how much this is eating me inside as well! If I can trade my life for Ginny, I will! But _I'm sorry _for being as useless as shit! _I'm sorry_ that I didn't save her! I'm sorry for not knowing! I'm even sorry that I'm still breathing right now! I'm guilty enough and you don't need to remind me over and over again just how much I screwed up!"

"Well, I'm glad you know! I trusted you to take care of her that night! If you were never born at the first place, she wouldn't have been dragged into this whole mess you're constantly at! Everyone _dies_ for _you_! It's time you man up about it and stop being such a bloody coward! You're—" Ron wasn't able to finish his sentence as Harry had suddenly bolted into him, making them both stumble into the floor.

The order started to restrain them, but this didn't stop them from still shouting and cursing each other's names.

"Potter! Weasley! This has got to stop—"

"You're a fucking coward! You let them kill my sister! She's even in love with you! But you just let her burn there! You just let them _kill her_! How can you ever sleep at night, huh? When all you did was _nothing_ while she was burning and screaming for your fucking help!"

"I didn't know it was going to happen, Ron! I love her! I love Ginny, dammit! And I—"

"If you love her, you could have been there! You could have—"

"Enough! Both of you!"

It seemed as if every movement or activity had temporarily ceased as every head turned towards the crying brunette by the stairs.

Hermione Granger looked too frail and broken. She was pale as a ghost, barefooted and was clutching on her thin nightdress for support.

But she had the most determined and indomitable expression in the world.

Even more when she uttered her next words; "I'll do it."

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Set Fire to the Rain" by Adele**

* * *

**A/N: Once again thanking you for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate each of them, makes my day brighter! Sorry I couldn't answer to some of the questions otherwise I'd spoil what's ahead. :D But thank you so much and God bless.**

**Love, Sue.**


	30. Chains

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty**

"**Chains"**

**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire England**

**24****th**** December 1996**

"Keep your head down, girl," Snape instructed, pulling Hermione by the arm as they walked towards the wide driveway that led off the hefty, cobbled path.

Hermione did as she was told; trying her best to bury her face with the hood of her shroud, squeezing her hands together and trying to ease her discomfort from the heavy chains encircling her wrists. Everything was too dark for her to clearly see, but she could feel the weighty gazes of some of the heavily built men guarding the lofty wrought-iron gates of the manor. They looked too daunting as they stared at her, even the albino peacocks roving along the top of the yew hedge seemed to rove as far as possible from them, at the same time still managing to be majestically graceful and snobbish as they drifted along.

"What's that you got there, Snape?" A middle-aged tall man with hard, blunt feature sneered at Hermione, particularly lingering his gaze on her perky bottom hidden inside her oversized cloak. Sensing that there was a woman inside that heavy clothing seemed to excite him.

"None of your business, Yaxley. But if you're too nosy to care, it's a Christmas gift for my godson," Snape answered him with a churlish, bored expression.

That was the only time Hermione was actually reminded that it was the Christmas Eve.

The night used to be a very big deal for her before.

It was as if only yesterday that she and Draco had been decorating her personal Yule tree inside her room. Draco chose and got it for her from the forest just behind her Aunt Genevieve's manor grounds.

She had always adored Christmas and she had wanted a tree inside her room. They decorated it with magical glowing candles, ornaments, garlands, tinsels and candy canes. Draco kissed her angel figurine before he lifted her a little so she could place it on top of the tree.

He was filled with beautiful, enticing promises. He said he could give her the world if she wanted him to. He had even promised her that he would get her a bigger tree the following year.

Now she had no tree, a broken heart and he was gone.

"Another concubine for the young master? Psh, he'll just give her off to any of us again. The last concubine Zabini offered to appease him for the lost of the mudblood girl, died under Greyback's hands when he declined her and gave her off to him. Just give the beauty here so you'll not be wasting your time. He'll just give it to us anyway," Yaxley grinned like an animal waiting for his quarry as he opened his arms for the girl.

He looked too forbidding that Hermione had to inch a little into her Professor for safety. Snape yanked her arm a little to remind her to keep the act. He didn't need them to be killed just before entering the manor's gates.

"There's no harm in trying," Snape reasoned uncaringly. "Now let us through as you're the one who's wasting my time here."

For a moment, there was suddenly a staring game between the two men. The air was tensed as both men did nothing but look at each other with defiant stares. Finally, the death-eater scoffed and had let them through. Hermione couldn't help but be in awe of what her Professor just accomplished, or whatever it was he had played. The fact of the matter was; he just won. She wished she could be as good as him, especially that she had just accepted such a heavy responsibility.

As they walked through the long conduit to the huge manor house with diamond-paned downstairs window that grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive; Hermione couldn't help but think about everything that has happened and how she had come up with this decision.

It was anger.

…too much anger that had suffocated and killed what was left from the twisted love she had ever felt for Draco Malfoy.

_"You're my best, best friend, Ginny. Thank you for everything," Hermione whispered, holding her friend tightly._

_"You know you always got by back, okay? I love you Mione," Ginny beamed at her as they broke their embrace._

_"I love you too, Gin. Thank you for always being here for me," Hermione nodded, scolding her own lips for suddenly trembling and her stupid eyes for unexpectedly watering. Why was she always an emotional wreck whenever she just got closer with Draco Malfoy even for a single second? She hated the guy. It was her brain's daily mantra to her heart for the past months._

_"Don't you dare let a single tear fall in front of me, or I'll smack you in the head even if I was the one who did your pretty hairstyle today! Now let's just go and enjoy alright? Later this night, you won't have me anymore as I'll be busy snogging Harry Potter," Ginny told her blatantly, making her chuckle on her friend's audacity; her unshed tears temporarily forgotten._

Ginny was her best friend.

She was such a kind girl, always so happy, always so positive of everything.

She was the first to have helped her in standing up even when she was too broken to do so.

She was like a sister to her. She was one of those few people who had helped her to survive… and she died. She was murdered. Just like that.

The thing that Hermione couldn't stomach was on the way she died, screaming while burning into horrendous, revolting ashes.

There was a time in her life when she thought that nothing could ever separate the love she had with Draco even if he would hurt her over and over again. She felt like a masochist but it was real, what she felt for him was too blinding to even be stopped. He could be the most sycophantic courtier, the most arrogant man in the world. Perhaps he could even spit on her way, or declare his superiority towards her over and over again. She might hate him for that, but it would always fade away and be crumpled into waste when she would see him again.

She had no choice. Her heart did almost everything and it ruined her.

It ruined her and it was just too twisted that she could even bear that.

But this time, he just did it.

He just crossed that line, and it felt like she was stabbed by that actually right in the front.

Ginny's death was an eye-opener.

Hermione realised that she was living in a whimsical nightmare, an imaginary abyss that turned out to be an empty, burning hell.

She was in love with a murderer, with the man who had taken everything away from her. She was in love with the bane of her existence.

And like a snap, everything just turned; like someone just opened her chest, took her heart out and erased that one particular spot that beats for Draco Malfoy.

Now all she could feel was pure tortured anger and resentment towards him.

The emotion was blinding her that she couldn't feel anything but hate, but it was better this way.

All that she ever wanted to do was to avenge Ginny's death, the death of the innocent people and the lives of their families that he and his kinds had brutally snatched.

He did this and she was thanking him for it.

Because finally, for the first time, Hermione could actually see him pay for everything he had done and not feel any remorse or sympathy towards it any longer.

Yes. She would do this.

She would do this for Ginny and the others.

She would do this for herself.

She had always been stubborn and wrong. This time however, she wanted to be stubborn and right.

"_Do you think this is fair for me? You're playing like a fucking hero while I sit here, doing nothing as I worry my arse off for you." Theo was pacing around the room. His hair was too tousled due to his hand's rough treatment on it._

"_I have to do this. You know I have to do this, Theo," Hermione explained in a soft, desperate tone as she walked near him and held his hand. This action seemed to put him off guard, but it worked to calm him somehow. _

_Then, out of nowhere, he smiled. Just smiled. _

_It was too unexpected that she had to ask. "Why are you suddenly smiling?" _

_He just shook his head. "You really weren't lying when you told me once that you'll just make things complicated. It's really true then, huh? You are complicated."_

_She drew back a little when he gently leaned towards her. It was an automatic gesture and she regretted that act later when she saw the look of hurt in his eyes._

"_Here you are trying to appease me by holding my hand, trying to look as if you'd kiss me back but you won't. You don't want to," he whispered solemnly at her. _

_Hermione couldn't help but stare at those yielding green eyes… so different from Draco's magnetic, intense grey ones, but they're becoming almost as equally beautiful now. _

_Almost._

_Almost, but she was going there._

_When her eyes lingered on the angry burnt marks on his neck, she couldn't help but lift her hand to touch them._

_Those scars were just some of the evidences on how blinded she really was._

_Here was the man who saved her life when she was calling for another to do so._

_Here was the man who loved her still even if she made it perfectly clear that she couldn't love him back._

_During the final time when she thought everything was going to end, she had called on one man's name._

_Just one man, but he never came._

_She could have died being stupid right then._

_But this man, right here, saved her life. He saved her life just so she could realise she was better than that. She was better than the stupid girl who had fallen for the man that would leave her there to burn and die. _

"_I'm battle scarred. But you must know I'm healing. You made me understand the things that have temporarily made me stupid and blind from everything. You saved my life, Theo. What made you think I don't want to kiss you? I might not do it now, but you must know that today doesn't constitute on anything in the future," she told him softly, still caressing the scars on his neck, the beautiful taints that she would be forever grateful for. _

"_Would you give us a chance then? When you come back?" He asked her softly._

"_Yes."_

* * *

"Snape has something for you, Malfoy," Graham Montague went inside the huge dimly lit room. He was the only one allowed to do this.

He was now surprisingly Draco's closest comrade, replacing Blaise Zabini's place. Malfoy hated even his own godfather, knowing that Snape tried to take his glory once on that Astronomy Tower. The blond expressed that he felt betrayed by that.

In fact, he felt betrayed by everything and everyone.

Since the night Hermione Granger died, Draco had been blaming everyone for everything, especially Blaise Zabini who was the one to fail with the task of saving her from the fiendfyre attack.

Malfoy had been blaming Zabini for everything since then. It had even come to the point when he had almost killed the Italian boy if it wasn't for Crabbe and Goyle's restraints on him.

From that time on, Malfoy had been too apathetic to anybody, with the exception of the dark lord whenever he was called.

Blaise Zabini would usually initiate and do all the talking, even sending him some new beautiful girls he just abducted just to earn his good graces. But Malfoy was always either too busy to care, or he just didn't care at all.

"Go away," Malfoy slurred.

He was on his drinking diatribes again. No one should bother him when he was drinking.

Sometimes, Montague hated this job. But who was he to say no to this kind of opportunity? Draco Malfoy was the dark lord's right hand now. Getting closer to Malfoy was the best move he ever had with his life. Montague had never intended to find that necklace that fateful night, but he guessed everything started in there. He knew that the necklace was Malfoy's greatest treasure right now and maybe Malfoy felt like he owed Montague for at least saving it for him. Sometimes, he would even see him sleeping with it, holding it close to his heart like it was the Granger girl herself.

Draco's fluttered eyes tried to stay open, frowning at the heavily built chaser when he didn't move. "What the actual _fuck_, Montague? Are you daft? I said go away," Draco uttered, shooing him like mad, as if he was a pest as he gulped on his whiskey again.

"Snape said he has a Christmas present for you," Montague gritted his teeth, hating his Professor for threatening him. He could be _that_ intimidating that he just couldn't say no. "It's a new girl. Snape is asking if you'd let them enter your room, and if he can talk to you about it. He said it's different this time."

Draco didn't say anything. He was staring into a particular distance now, gingerly lighting a cigarette and bringing it ever so slowly to his lips, inhaling its fumes with an exasperatingly snail's pace.

He was staring into space as if he was in a state of catatonia. His pupils were not even moving for a single second. It almost looked like he was asleep or even dead, only with his eyes opened.

"So… er… Should I let them come in?" Montague decided to ask again. The silence was actually scaring him. Fuck Snape for evoking this kind of feeling at the first place. Now he was just damn paranoid.

"It must have hurt," Draco suddenly spoke quietly, sadly. Montague was too surprised he could even sound that _soft_.

"Huh?" Montague could only frown dumbly. Sometimes, the young master could scare him. Sometimes, he just really puzzled him to death.

"She must have screamed for help but no one even stopped and listened. I didn't even know… I didn't even hear her. It must have hurt. It must have really hurt, you know, burning like that," the blond uttered and Montague instantly knew who he was talking about. "If I can take it all away I will, Princess. But I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Montague had to wince a little when he saw Draco belligerently pushed the burning tip of his cigarette to his own arm, right into his pulse point. "I've never intended you to hurt like that, Princess. I didn't know…"

If there was any pain; Draco never showed it. He looked like he was emptied of any feelings. He was just talking like a zombie. Montague knew he should get out of the room now when he's like this.

"M-Malfoy, you just—" Montague couldn't finish his words. His eyes were glued to the stilled cigarette scorching its owner's skin. "Stop it, Malfoy."

When Montague realised that the latter wasn't listening anymore, he bolted out of the room to call Snape to do something. The older man usually knew what to do during these times.

"He's doing it again, sir," Montague told his Professor who was waiting with the girl just outside Draco's room.

"Let us in," Snape ordered him calmly.

"But Malfoy said—"

"Let us in or I'll let you deal with this on your own. You know how he is in these kinds of situation."

Montague had no choice. He was much too stressed to deal with any of his psychotic master's shit right now.

"Fine," Montague gritted his teeth. "But I have nothing to do with this. You forced yourself in," he added as he cautiously walked away.

Snape didn't reply and just stood there for a while, seemingly trying to think over the decision by the Order again.

"I once knew a brave girl like you. She saved me once," he whispered after almost a minute, not looking straight at her.

"What do you mean Profe—"

Hermione wasn't able to finish her sentence as Snape had belligerently opened the door, causing her to flinch away a little.

"You know the plan," he whispered callously before dragging her inside the room, her wrists hurt due to the heavy chains that were still fastening them together.

"Stop it this instant, boy," Snape commanded by the time they went inside, harshly sending the cigarette flying from Draco's skin into the floor, crushing it by his shoes in the process.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out of here!" Draco shouted furiously. The skin on his wrist was already bleeding due to his earlier assault on it that the scald even looked like someone just skinned him.

"I have something for you," Snape waved him off while hauling the still cloaked Hermione nearer, her face still hidden inside the securely tied hood of her oversized cover.

"That's it? That's your gift? Another whore? You're useless as shit!" Draco yelled, too furious to see reason as he kicked on the rounded pristine table just beside Hermione, almost hitting her in the process.

"Draco, you listen to me. This is—"

"What do you want me to do, huh? Fuck her and then forgive you? You and Blaise are the same! You both are useless! But alright then, I might as well entertain myself." With only one huge stride, Draco had all of a sudden brutally towed Hermione by the arm, making the brunette gasp as her chains were still hurting her.

"Wait, don't hurt her, boy. Her chains are—"

"Her chains are what, huh? You sent her to her doom and now you care? Maybe you've already fucked her before giving her to me. You could do that, anyway. You're a selfish old man, trying to steal my glory, huh? Well, I'm sorry but I'm the dark lord's right hand now!" Draco sneered at Snape, ignoring Hermione's whimpers. Draco was holding her shackles too hard, making the fortified chains to graze on her already wounded wrists.

"P-Please stop," Hermione couldn't help it anymore. Her wrists hurt too much as they started to bleed. Maybe he'd stop doing it if he could see her, but Professor Snape had tied her hood around too securely to protect her from the death eaters along the way and she couldn't rustle it away with her head.

Draco was untamed now, still holding on to her chains so she couldn't move her hands.

He seemed too angry at everyone as he dragged her with him to his king-sized bed. Hermione couldn't help but cry now as the chains ferociously sliced her skin as he tugged on the heavy shackles constricting her wrists.

"Draco! Stop it! She's hurt! Look at—"

"Is this what you want me to do, Snape? Do you want me to hurt her and play with her in front of you just so you'll think that I'm happy that you're giving me an entertainment? Is this your idea for being a bootlicker to the dark lord's right hand?"

"Shut it, boy! You must know that you can't do that because—"

"I can do anything that I bloody want! I practically own everything now! You can't stop me!"

Hermione was crying harder now. All she could feel was pain and fear. It just hurt too much but she was just too defenseless.

"Listen to me, boy. You don't want to do this—"

"Why, huh? Why do you fucking think I can't? When I'm _nothing_ now! I don't have anything! I don't—"

"Because she's the damn girl, Draco! She's Hermione!"

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Perfect" by Hedley**

* * *

**A/N: Gaah! I know, I know. I love placing cliffies. So sorry! I promise to make it all better next time. No cliffies on the next chapter anymore haha, :D And Draco is becoming too dark. I've intended this from the very start, but sometimes I get carried away with the depths of his darkness. It's twisted, but I love him like that. 0_0**

**Anyway, thanks again for all the reviews! God bless you all. Kisses**

**Love, Sue**


	31. A Monster's Mistress

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

"**A Monster's Mistress"**

It was like a ray of light, an eccentric flicker that went with the flashback.

Severus Snape had never felt like this for quite a long time, but seeing his godson's expression had suddenly taken him back to how it used to be, how _he _used to be.

"Y-You're just saying that so I'll stop hurting her!" Draco ruthlessly shouted, albeit his voice sounded that of trepidation and foreboding indecision; his legs shakily backing away from the crying, bloodied girl. Some of his hair was gummed to his sweat-covered forehead and he had the most troubled expression in the world.

Draco had detained her chains too tightly that they had completely sliced around her wrists. He didn't even know the extent of what he had done, but the chains had locked into an impossible cinch, almost cutting the girl's hands from her arms. She was bleeding into near oblivion, crimson liquid trickling into the floor like morbid raindrops. Snape had to run to catch her from descending down.

"I caught her running around with her friends at one of the attacks," the older man explained while hoisting up the almost unconscious girl, her head falling back into his shoulder as she fought for consciousness. "I've thoroughly investigated everything. The necklace that Montague found was truly hers, but it appeared she had given it to someone. You can place a spell to determine her DNA, as what I've done. The girl who was burned wasn't her, Draco. It was Ginny Weasley. The Order was keeping her. But I got her… for _you_," Snape added, slowly untying the band around her hood to finally show Hermione Granger's face.

Snape watched his godson's expression as it went from rigid anger to pure shock and remorseful stir. His grey eyes were even much too noticeable as they opened wide as if they wanted to run away from their sockets. He was uncontrollably shaking and his jaw was tightened to an impossible rigidity, but it was the forming tears that did him.

Draco's hands were trembling as he slowly lifted them up to lightly touch the weak girl's face, as if afraid he might hurt her by such a frail feel, when only seconds ago, he acted like he was going to mercilessly rape and murder her.

This kind of scene was out of the context. It was the first time Snape had seen him this vulnerable. He was almost convinced he still had a heart.

"H-Hermione?" Draco choked as he caressed her tear-stained cheeks with his shaking hands. It was only then he noticed that his hands were smeared with blood, _her blood_. "Oh fuck!" He was panicking now as he held unto the bleeding and almost lifeless girl.

Hermione was pale as a ghost due to the loss of blood from her system. Her eyes were fluttering and unfocused, but her tears never stopped as she shook in fear.

Snape watched the horrified expression of the younger boy and he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. No matter how iniquitous he could be, he knew that deep down, there was still that thread trying to hold on into that lost soul. It was there somewhere. He just knew because he understood.

"Take these fucking chains off! Oh shit! Oh Merlin, Hermione," Draco cried as Snape magically took the constricting chains off her wrists, making the girl scream in agony and bleed even more.

Snape wanted to walk away from the scene the moment both had stumbled down the floor when Hermione had finally fainted. He just really wanted to go and skip this part.

But he just couldn't, even more when he saw his godson crying on the floor while cradling the girl on his arms, rocking her back and forth like she was the only thing that was holding him together.

He'd been in this situation once.

The only difference was that it had been too late.

But this time, he still could make the change.

It wasn't too late like before. He wouldn't let it happen again.

"Keep your head together, boy!" Snape demanded while urgently kneeling down and applying pressure to the girls' brachial artery by using a piece from his clothing, at the same time elevating them to slow the bleeding down. "_Vulnera Sanentur_," he whispered, making the blood be swallowed back into the girls' heavy gashes, making her whimper even in her state of doze, feeling the pain from the healing charm stitching her skin.

"What have I done?" Draco choked, barely hearing his own self as he held her closer, kissing her face, her hair, and her lips again and again like a mad addict. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Princess. I promise everything is going to be okay, alright? Do you hear me, Princess? Huh, baby? I won't let this happen again. I promise. Oh fuck, I'm so sorry," he cried as he held her closer, brushing her lips to his own like she gave him air to breathe.

"She is going to be fine. I will call a proper healer to attend to her," Snape informed him calmly as he stood up.

"What the fuck were you even thinking restraining her with those chains? Hermione has a very sensitive skin! She bleeds easily! Ever since we were young, I needed to constantly watch her so she won't trip herself and fall! You don't know anything! None of you knows anything about her!" Draco was hysterical and uproarious as he shakily held the girl in place, gently wiping some of her hair away from her sweat covered face.

Snape was caught off guard, not only by his godson's very atypical actions but from his statement as well.

He never truly realised just how much the boy's feelings went. But the longer he stayed here and stared at him, the more he remembered the abandoned lot, the lone tree, the summer breeze, the lilies by the river…

"I-I will be off now. I assure you she will be alright. The healer will be here soon," Snape finally said.

Draco didn't answer him but just continued on murmuring sweet nothings to the unconscious girl as he gently rocked her back and forth like that of a baby.

With a resigned sigh, the old Professor went out of the dimly lit room, with a silent prayer of hope that maybe, just maybe, his godson still had the chance of not having the tragic end that he had.

* * *

It was the smell of jasmine essential oils and the hypnotic scent of roses that woke Hermione up from an empty chasm.

Everything was just so _soft_, like there was a lenient breeze all over the place, charmed to soothe its master. She could feel the silky perfection of her thin, translucent nightgown, like she was wearing water or the soft zephyr itself as it flowed perfectly into her thighs under the huge blanket.

Making her arms as leverage, she gingerly sat up, looking around and realising that she was on the same majestic room the last time she could remember, only almost everything inside was completely different, or maybe it was just because of the absence of ousted tables and broken glasses on the marble floor…

She winced as she remembered everything; yet, she wondered why she couldn't feel the pain anymore, just the memory of it.

Slowly lifting her shaky arms, she examined her wrists. It had almost felt like both her hands were going to be cut off as they bleed with the constricting chains before. But now, not a single blemish could even be seen.

If the pain wasn't as vivid then she could have sworn she could have had thought of everything as a hurting dream, a nightmare.

There were no traces or evidences, however. Maybe there was a possibility that it was all just a dream?

If it wasn't then she should at least have a single scar on her wrists, but there was none, either.

"Dark magic."

Hermione's heart caught in her throat as her head automatically craned sideways to see the owner of the voice, though she knew she'd recognised that same deep, arctic voice anywhere.

"Everything is possible with dark magic."

Draco Malfoy was sitting on a posh settee just a few feet away from the king-sized bed she was on. The divan was purposely turned towards her and it appeared that he'd been there for quite some time, with a whiskey on hand, staring intensely at her.

He was wearing a black bathrobe, an outlandish accompaniment to his skin's intense paleness and his ruffled silvery hair. It was tied too loosely around his hips and his chest was peeking out blatantly in the front.

When he stood up, a glance of a darker blond hair could be seen, trailing vertically from his navel downwards, his taut abdomen seemed harder than it used to be.

He was actually naked inside.

A year back, she would probably blush beautifully by the thought of an almost naked Draco Malfoy walking towards her when she was only wearing nothing but silky knickers inside a very thin, transparent nightgown that was even barely there.

Yet, right now, all she could feel was fear as every step from him gathered uncalled memories from the time she had her eyes opened. She could feel her back pushing on the huge pillows situated at the head of the bed frame as she pulled the covers into her body.

Here was the murderer who had killed a lot of people… people who had families who were left to mourn.

Here was the man who had killed her best friend.

And the same man who had almost killed her as well.

"You're staring at me as if I'm nothing but a monster," Draco whispered as he stood in front of her, his shadow completely covering all of her from the little luminosity left from the room.

"Aren't you?" She could only spat. She couldn't feel a thing, just anger and trepidation; but unsurpassed of all was an irrevocably, blinding, genuine _anger_. Just anger.

Draco's once soft face suddenly turned hard by the time she said those words. Hermione had to flinch away when he briefly bounded the bed and kneeled in front of her, his face leaning mere inches away from his face as he breathed harshly. "You don't know anything," he uttered while gripping her throat like he would strangle her, but he did it too lightly as if he was just touching. When he saw the look of fear in her eyes however, he looked like he regretted it and had placed his hand on her chin instead, bringing her lips into his own, pressing their lips together into a deep, lingering kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that draws you in.

The kind where it was the softest but the most powerful at the same time, like it was made purely for intimacy, an act to prove cherishment.

The kind where you'd suddenly lost any coherent thoughts inside the temporary bubble of pleasure it created.

The kind where nothing mattered but the fact on how to get more of it.

Draco Malfoy's kiss…

She guessed no one could really match it.

It seemed a century ago when she last had this.

She couldn't believe just how much it affected her, just how much she suddenly wanted it.

It was a sweet poison; so wrong for her but she still had it anyway.

Hermione almost cried when it ended.

But it wasn't because of the fact that it had ended, but because she was revolted of her self, on just how much she had wanted it, on just how much she had moaned and whined when he pulled away.

It was an impenetrable experience, something a person couldn't really describe in words.

"I really thought you're gone," Draco whispered against her lips, sounding too gentle than the last she had heard him. He had his eyes closed as if he was in pain as he brought her nearer to him, their foreheads touched together as he roamed her hands on her lithe body.

"Then I'm sorry for disappointing you," Hermione replied coldly, pushing him back but his chest was as hard as a stone, draining all the energy left of her.

"When have you even learned talking to me like this?" Suddenly, he was angry again, making her whimper when he slightly tugged on her hair, tilting her head back and kissing her exposed jaw and neck in the process.

"Since the day you left me and chose to become a murderer," she spat the words as if it was acid poison, hearing her own heart spoke in resentment.

Draco stopped at her words. Hermione could feel him tensed up against their pressed chests. His hands went very still and rigid on her waist, and his breathing hitched a bit. Hermione could swear it had been a lifetime before he started to move away from her, the bed wobbled when he did so.

He stood up for a moment, staring down at her like he could melt her with those intense, grey eyes. He looked so tall in this position, so dominant, so prevailing, like she was the piece of property he owned and that she couldn't move or do anything until he would tell her so.

She really couldn't read the frown and hint of pain on his feature. It felt like he was wearing a mask that was molded with his face' expressions, if irony would allow it.

Hermione watched him as he finally moved, calmly retrieving a breakfast tray as if he had done this every day. "You need to eat," he simply stated, any expression gone again, as he placed the wooden breakfast tray with scrambled eggs, sausage, baked beans, hash browns, black pudding, mushrooms, tomato soup and hot chocolate in front of her. A yellow daffodil was softly bent towards her on its crystal vase.

_"Here," little Draco muttered after a long silence. He got the ruffled daffodil he had kept inside his pocket a while ago and shoved it to her, not staring back and looking straight into the ground._

_"For me?"_

_"Don't be stupid. Of course it's for you," he grumbled while thrusting the daffodil further._

_"Thank you," she smiled softly as she accepted his little gift. The daffodil looked a little mashed and it fluttered and bent lowly in front of her._

_"It got squashed inside my pocket," Draco explained. His once pale cheeks looked damped with crimson kisses._

Daffodils...

"_Still, it was a bit crazy of him to fall in love with a stone," Adrian replied._

"_No matter; I still find it very romantic," she smiled dreamily at the wind._

"_If that story matters to you very much, you should place something nice on it. Here," he smiled while giving her a rose and placing it in between of the pages. "Now you'll remember how romantic that story is. Usually, men who are in love give their ladies flowers."_

_Hermione was quiet for a while, until she finally smiled and spoke softly, "Draco once gave me a daffodil."_

If she wasn't aware of the situation, she could swear it would have looked like one of those sweetest seconds.

She watched as he gently sat in front of her, lightly dipping the spoon into the soup, scooping a good amount and blowing it lightly, even tasting its temperature a little before bringing the spoon in front of her lips.

"Open up," he ordered. There was just something about his tone, his overall dominance that made her obey him instantly.

"Good girl," his bad mood seemed to lessen a little, knowing that she wasn't fighting him this time. Hermione felt ashamed of herself for losing just because of food, but it smelled really good and she was just too hungry to care. She couldn't even remember the last time she ate.

The food prepared seemed too delectable to be ignored that she wanted to just eat everything in a fast pace, but Draco wouldn't let her touch any of the utensils. He served and fed her and she had no choice but to allow him to do so. He was occasionally kissing her hair and wiping the sides of her lips with his thumb as he did so.

It was very awkward, sitting there like a child and being fed.

But there was just something about the way he did it that made it seem so natural. But then again, this was Draco Malfoy. He was a master manipulator, a master liar.

"Did you like your food?" He finally asked after a silent meal. It was obvious that she did as she had eaten everything, but it seemed that he was fishing for her consent in words as he intently waited for her answer.

"Y-Yes, thank you" she muttered, not wanting him to lose his temper again.

"I'll be gone in a while," he said as he tucked a stray of curls to the back of her ear. "But the housemaids I personally hired for you will take care of you while I'm away."

Hermione wasn't listening as she spaced out, wandering her gaze around the huge, regal room instead.

She knew she had a mission to do. She should have really started by now. Time was ticking and it was fast.

Draco was going somewhere. She should at least be asking him about it, trying on her luck to get something, using her charm to get him to talk. That was her job after all.

But she wasn't doing anything.

Wasn't it her job to gather as much information as she could get?

But why couldn't she do it now?

Was it because she didn't want to know anything so she couldn't report anything?

Draco deserved any of the punishments coming his way.

But was she really willing to participate in giving it to him?

"Hermione, are you even listening to me? I don't want you going out. Do you hear me? You can only stay here, and in the library connected to this room. I'll be back in time for dinner," Draco told her before giving her another kiss. "Be a good girl," he whispered, and by that, he was gone.

It was minutes later that Hermione's maidservants went it, as promised. They were two gaunt looking, old ladies; those kinds who looked like they owned and managed an old dormitory. She was hoping to at least talk to them about anything, just to spare herself from the insanity of silence, but they looked like they've only come here for business and nothing more.

They looked as if some dementors had kissed them a bit, sucking all their emotions out. But then again, maybe that was what really happened.

What more could she even expect from this place anyway?

"Milady, the young lord has ordered us to attend to any of your needs. Your lunch will be sent to you during noontime. And we will help you prepare for dinner before he comes back. If you are in need of any of our assistance, just ring this bell. It is connected to our quarters and we will be here shortly," one of them informed her while placing a small golden bell on the classic semi-circular wooden top table.

She felt like being inside a golden cage with her schedules being planned ahead of her.

It felt like Aunt Genevieve's ruling era once again.

"If that would be all, milady," they curtsied before turning for the door.

"Wait, you're leaving now?" Hermione asked. She knew she sounded like a child, but she just honestly wanted any assurance that she was with some living beings, even if their expressions looked dead.

"You can summon us if you need anything. In the meantime, the library connected to your room will keep you busy. We will be back for your lunch service as well and to your preparation for the young lord before dinner," one of them told her before bowing to her once more and walking away with an obvious lock to the door. They only seemed to repeat what they said to her a while ago like they were some muggle machines programmed to do just that. They had very blank features that Hermione was barely convinced they were even humans.

Hours later, she was left alone, wandering and pacing anxiously around the room, the library, and back to the room again; the only places she was allowed to go, not that she had any other choice anyway.

The books were surprisingly, not enough to keep her busy, as opposed to what her maidservant said. The amount or the quality wasn't an issue. It was all listed on her favourite collections, and they've reached an amount almost comparable to the Hogwarts' library itself.

She supposed she could use these for her mission. But her mind was too jumbled right now to even move or carry on with her plans, or to even read one book. Maybe she was procrastinating? Or maybe she was just too afraid of what she would learn.

It was very much unlike her. Hermione Granger always, _always_ wanted to learn before anything else. It was her familiar territory.

But she didn't want to be familiar of anything right now.

It wasn't just the fact that the room was too big for her to explore everything either.

It was about the actuality that _everything_ inside was familiar because it was purely altered to meet her wishes.

"_What else does my princess wants?" Draco chuckled while encircling Hermione's waist as she sat on him on a rocking chair like a little kid on Santa's lap, both staring contentedly at the glowing lights of their first ever Christmas tree together._

"_Books, lots and lots of books on a library beside my room," she nodded happily, feigning a dreamy stance as if she had thought about it a million times._

"_Too predictable," he chuckled at her little proceedings. "What else?"_

"_I want a candlelight dinner by the balcony. I want a soft blanket and lots and lots of pillows by the fireplace and oh, a little table beside it so I can eat my favourite treats."_

"_Cookies," Draco nodded seriously, making her chuckle and bury her head on his neck._

"_Don't let Aunt Genevieve hear that. She's going to place me inside a cupboard until I take responsibility on my diet."_

"_Your aunt has gone barmy, you know. I think she needs to stop guarding your diet. You're already very fit. If there's anyone who needs it, I think it's her," Draco told his girlfriend, making her gasp, looking like her companion had just spoken a tabooed word, though there was a hint of playfulness on her own surprised expression as well. _

"_If she hears that, then she'll kill us both," Hermione laughed as Draco kissed her chin gently._

"_As if she can do that with me guarding you; I happen to be very good at spells, you know," he announced smugly._

"_Really, huh?" She challenged._

"_Yes, and I can give you anything you want."_

"_Even a bigger tree next Christmas?"_

"_Is that it? Just a bigger tree?" Draco smiled. "I can go back to that formidable forest to give it to you if you want to. What else do you want?"He added smugly._

_Hermione chuckled as she inched a little to get closer to him, clasping both her hands at the back of his nape, encircling him. "I don't really want anything, Draco. I want you, alone. I just want you."_

Hermione felt her tears streaking down her cheeks as she looked up the bigger Christmas tree at the present.

He fulfilled every promise, except the last one.

It was funny on how she just gotten everything she had wished for, except the thing she wanted the most.

It seemed funnier how things just couldn't work out.

Because she had just blinked, and he was gone.

The old Draco was nowhere to be found this time.

She couldn't feel the security and love she had felt any longer.

She was facing the dark lord's heir now, not her Draco.

When she had looked into his eyes, all she could see was Ginny's pleading tears when she died, the look of terror from the people that night.

All she could see was… fire.

Fire and nothing else.

* * *

Hermione felt like an offering to the gods as she stood there. She was wearing a long, white halter gown, showing her creamy skin from her shoulders down to the small of her back where her hips met. The sexy, deep V of the neckline halter showed off her décolletage as the flowing gown hugged the curves of her body perfectly like a Greek goddess.

Her long curls were styled beautifully into a Grecian updo, with her hair tucked back in low chignon, held together with crystallized silver bobby pins.

The maidservants had done well and without another word had left her alone inside the enormous, lonely place again.

Now, as she stared at herself in front of the mirror, she was reminded once again of the remnants of her past, like a shadow that would never go away unless it was dark.

She was very young that night. She was only four.

She was turning around and around in circles, looking up at the crystal chandelier lights of the party. It was the first official societal party her mother had taken her.

Little Hermione was the happiest girl on earth.

Everybody told her she was beautiful. Everyone was praising her. She was a beautiful princess and everyone loved her.

She loved everything that night, the music, the laughter, the lights, the spectrum of hues as they danced along her feathery, downy, laced dress.

Until she had tripped into her toes and bumped into a waiter performing the service à l'anglaise to the table of the Minister himself.

Her mother had never been angrier. She had kept her cool the entire night however, sending endless apologies to the Minister who was kind enough to just laugh at his almost soaked disposition. But when they went home, the punishment started. She had been dragged into the closet and was locked there for two days, only being opened for her meals.

It was the worst two days in Hermione's childhood. Up to the present, she could still remember and hear her crying pleas, Nanny Demelza's soothing voice behind the closet door and her mother's silence and apathy.

But right then, at a very early age, she had known… she was just a trophy.

_"Someday, you will see. Someday you will understand the road I have prepared for you. You will look in front of the mirror and smile at your beauty. Pureblood women will envy you because their men will practically kneel in front of you. You are the hope of this family, Hermione. Someday you will see and understand…"_

She finally saw why, but that promised smile was still nonexistent.

"Maybe now I see, mother… what you did to me. But I still don't understand, why you've never loved me back," she whispered, talking to her own reflection in the mirror. "Did you at least feel something for me? Even a little? I wasn't bad, was I? I did everything to be a good daughter."

"Tsk. You're crying again."

Hermione didn't need to turn around to see the man that appeared in the mirror as he walked nearer, approaching behind her. Slowly intertwining his arms around her waist, he kissed her shoulder as he held her closer to his body.

"You can't force anyone to love you back," he told her. "At the same time, you can't force anyone to stop loving you." He paused for a while, lifting his hand to gently brush away her tears by his thumb. "You fight when you're sad. You fight when you're afraid. But you don't cry, Princess. Not ever. Remember that," he whispered as he intensely stared at her reflection in the mirror, his eyes suddenly filled with unadulterated lust as he stared hungrily at her body's reflection.

"And that's what you do? Even if you know that you're wrong?" She breathed as his finger brushed along her lips, his other hand caressing her waist.

"There is no right and wrong, just winning and losing. And I _always_ win," he whispered huskily into her ears, squeezing her as he gave emphasis to the word.

"You can't stay like this Draco," she whispered fearfully, almost pleadingly. She knew it was impossibility, an unreachable wishful thinking that she could ever alter someone like this in an instant. But his stare made her think she could, like she held something in him.

Maybe…

"You don't tell me what to do, that's my job," he told her tightly before smelling the skin on her neckline like he could sip all of her essence inside. "And no one else can ever have you. I'll make sure of that," he whispered hoarsely before taking something out of his pocket.

Hermione gasped when she felt the familiar weight of the stone that now adorned her neckline. She was breathing so fast; thousands of emotion came pouring inside her when she stared at the beautiful pear-shaped diamond with sparkling teardrop-shaped green lustre emeralds around it.

"H-How did you…" she couldn't even finish her sentence as she choked with her words.

She had given it to Ginny and it reminded her of her death and the fact that this man right here was responsible of it all.

"Don't you even _fucking dare_ give this to anyone again, Princess, or you'll know exactly what will happen to them," he warned her as his finger traveled lightly on her arm, to her shoulder and neck going to the upper swell of her breasts where the necklace rested.

The light, teasing strokes were making the hairs on her nape to stand. Her eyes were starting to flutter to the electricity it seemed to elicit in her. All coherent thoughts, and even Ginny's face was starting to fade away now.

All she could feel was his hands. And it was the guiltiest, most sinful feeling in the world.

"You're too beautiful. I can't believe you can ruin me like this," he breathed throatily. His actions were becoming more and more frenzied now and she couldn't help but moan with it.

She gasped as she felt something prodding her back and blushed deeply when she realised what it was. She'd been familiar with it and she had felt them before, every time they'd get a little too deep on their forbidden furtive, snogging sessions at the corners of her Aunt Genevieve's manor house or even those times he would steal her away so they could hide into the concealed curve of the Hogwarts library.

"You can feel that, don't you?" He whispered huskily at her. "It's because of you." Suddenly, his hands were all over her, kneading her breasts which seemed too excited to meet him, playing with them like he did on their stolen moments before.

He just _knew_ what he was doing, placing the right amount of pressure, knowing where touch, where to linger.

It was true.

He had memorised her body a long time ago, and he'd never forgotten.

It was instinctual as she started arching and moaning because of the heightened pleasure. She couldn't believe she had missed this too much. She had almost forgotten the feel of a man's hands on her body, the pleasure and state of abandonment it gave her.

She needed to bite her tongue just to stop herself from screaming and begging for more when he bit and sucked on the pulse at the junction of her clavicle and neck.

It was just too good, her eyes were shut too tightly it even hurts. But she just wanted to feel more.

She suddenly gasped when his other hand boldly went down, directly cupping her womanhood through her silky white gown.

"_This _is mine," he growled, making her eyes snap open as she stared at their position in front of the mirror.

Her breasts were ready to pop out of her gown with Draco's arm levering them both in a possessive manner. What horrified her however was the fact that she had her legs opened for him. She wasn't herself when she did that. She was too desperate to feel that blinding pleasure he was giving her and it was just too instinctual and impulsive.

For Merlin's sake, she was even wet down there.

He might know…

But wasn't her shameless moaning showed it all?

She had never allowed Draco to touch her there before.

She had let him see her body during those forbidden, stolen summer nights, allowed him to do anything with abandonment just as long as he didn't venture there. It had always been their silent agreement and he had always respected her wishes.

But now, he was breaking it boldly, sending her a message, loud and clear when he said those words.

And she just let him.

Maybe some time ago, being caught in this position, Hermione would have had thought and considered it knowing just how much she loved this man.

But everything was said and done. He couldn't take back everything he did and the necklace that was clinging on to the skin near to her heart was no longer a symbol of his love, but a symbol of his evil soul, of Ginny's death…

She just couldn't love him back anymore.

There was a reason for a past to exist.

"Let go of me," she cried while desperately removing her body away from him, making him hiss on the loss of contact.

"Stop being a brat, Hermione," he scolded her like she was being an unreasonable little girl. She hated him when he did that.

"Will you just _stop_ doing that? Stop acting like you own me because you don't!" She screamed frustratingly at him.

"Come here," he just ordered calmly, opening his arms for her.

"No!" Hermione yelled defiantly as she ran towards the door, hysterically crying and shouting as she tried to open it with all her strength. She knew it was no use. She knew she looked stupid. Draco had hidden her wand and she felt helpless, her mind running wild as she looked for her options even though she knew she had none.

She just really wanted to get out of here, her cries echoing through the enormous room as she ran and tried to open the door to the library, but it was also locked by Draco. She tried to open the glass door towards the balcony but it was locked as well, not to mention the fact that it was surrounded with protective, shielding charms so no soul could ever get past it.

She finally snapped. She ran wildly around the room for what seemed like an eternity, crying and screaming like a lost child. All the frustrations and unfairness of everything were like poisoned arrows hitting her in different directions.

Draco just stood there the whole time, watching her like she was some kind of an entertainment.

"Are you done?" He simply asked when she finally exhausted herself while collapsing on the floor, hugging her knees towards her chest as she cried.

She could hear Draco's composed footsteps as he walked towards her and gingerly crouched down to meet her gaze.

"I hate you," she uttered angrily at him. It didn't affect anything on his expression this time.

"Come," he just ordered again while offering her a hand. "You're just hungry. Let's eat our dinner."

"You're crazy," she murmured disbelievingly at him.

"Dinner is waiting," he just said again, still holding his hand for her to take. Hermione had no choice but to take it. What else could she do anyway? The more she fought him, the more it seemed to keep him amused.

She wanted to scream out of this damnable frustration.

She was quivering but she felt numb as Draco led her to the closed glass door of the balcony. She watched, fascinated, as he waved his long, skilled hand to the pristine glass. It automatically obeyed its master as it opened wide, showing and leading her to the ludicrously lavished prepared candlelight dinner.

Hermione felt like floating on air as he led her way, took out a chair for her and pushed her shoulders lightly to make her sit down.

The sophisticated tempered glass table top with white embossed satin table clothing fabric was filled with some of her favourite dishes like field greens with prosciutto, sun-dried cherries and cassis vinaigrette, roasted rack of lamb served over roasted garlic rosemary demi-glace garnished with flageolet beans and grilled fillet mignon in a morel mushroom. The chocolate mousse looked delectable beside the Glace au Pain d' Epices.

Everything just looked too perfect as she stared at the cocktails and wine beside the dainty red roses with its petals scattered magically from the table and into the floor.

"Eat," he ordered once again, serving her some food himself.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered; her eyes still a bit red and swollen due to her outburst just moments ago.

"Eat," he just ordered again, a little bit firmly this time as he stared at her.

Hermione did as she was told, not wanting to irk him and have the table strewn upside down due to his impossible temper.

The dinner was actually really good, she would give him that. He didn't utter a single word again so she stayed quiet, silently enjoying the temporary bliss that fine food could offer.

It was a good, quiet dinner, almost a comfortable one…

Until he started on pushing her to drink more wine than she had intended to.

"You have to relax," he whispered when he noticed her starting to hyperventilate a little. The wine was starting to increase her pulse rate and she was having trouble on concentrating on anything but his powerful, striking eyes. They felt like lasers, shooting various sparks, leaking magic into her tingling, bare skin.

"I want to go to bed now, please," she asked him but regretted that request later when he smirked.

"N-Not like that," she squeaked, feeling stupid all of a sudden. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget everything, forget this feeling of euphoria as if she was in a dream only to grasp its true nightmare's form.

"Come then, my Princess. Let's get you to bed." He stood up and went to her, offering her a hand as she took it clumsily, wobbling a bit due to her state of tipsiness.

Draco seemed to take advantage of her condition as he gently carried her, bridal style, back into their bedroom.

Hermione couldn't help it. He just smelled so good, that fresh spicy, woody scent of summer mixed with cigar and wine… she just had to nuzzle her head into his neck and breathe him in. He just smelled too perfect, she had her toes curling as she did so.

Draco kissed her forehead tenderly and soothingly rubbed his thumb on her bare back before placing her on the king-sized bed, like she was the most fragile thing on earth.

The feel of the large, soft, supple bed was just glorious; she had to sigh in contentment as the softness swallowed her. She could feel it bobbing a little as Draco went on top of her, on all fours, not touching her but staring intensely at her splayed position like a predator studying his prey.

"I don't understand," he frowned at her. He looked like the most conflicted man in the world, like the very thing thought to him all his life was suddenly considered as a fraud, like his worshipped religion was false or was all bigotry and chauvinism, as if she had proved him that thought, just by her form in there, splayed abandoned on the bed, under him, _for him_. "I really don't fucking understand," he whispered frustratingly as he ran a finger on her cheek to the side of her half-opened lips and back to her cheeks again, pushing away some of the stray curls away from her face.

Hermione couldn't say a thing. She was completely lost with the way he looked that moment. His intense eyes were gleaming. In confusion? In bewilderment? Perhaps, in mystification? She didn't know.

All she knew was that… he was beautiful.

She couldn't believe how weak she could be when it came to this, when it came to his power to evoke.

She couldn't even protest when he plunged his lips to hers. She couldn't push him away when she was just so eager to response to his kisses, opening her mouth to him and letting her tongue dance in a silent battle with him.

It seemed like a lifetime, kissing him, but it always just wasn't enough. She was literally panting when they finally broke apart,

"Remember that you're in _my_ place now, Princess. And you're never going away again. I won't let it happen," he whispered before trailing urgent, open-mouthed kisses on her jaw to her neck and shoulders, his hands becoming more and more insistent as they traveled from her arms, waist and into the bare skin on her back.

Hermione's heart was practically booming now with his ministrations. The sensations that his hands and mouth elicited in her was becoming too much, making her peeking breasts move up and down in her state of frantic breathing.

"You like that, don't you?" He panted huskily into her ears, biting her earlobe gently and smiling when he earned a small, shy gasp from her, looking like a blushing bride.

"No one will ever make you feel this way, Hermione. _I_ know _you_. I'm the only man who does. Denying it would be useless," he told her, breathing her scent in the process. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"D-Draco," Hermione whimpered, feeling lightheaded but at the same time really scared of what this all would lead. Draco's actions were becoming more and more unrelenting… and she was letting him. She was letting him because she liked it.

"I told you to relax, haven't I?" He whispered, molding her breast with his hand and making her reflexively arch into his touch.

"That's my good girl," he purred before kneeling up a little and standing up just beside the bed to take his clothes off, never leaving his eyes from the precious witch still lying on the bed with glorious abandon while he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of his garment.

He held her gaze when he reached for his belt, shrugging off his trousers but leaving his boxers on.

Hermione couldn't take as much oxygen as she needed while electric lust sizzled down from her thriving heart to her core as she watched him stood there, his gorgeous, almost ethereal half-naked form pulling everything in her as she stared at those tensed lean muscles rippling on his body.

"Now it's your turn," he told her darkly. "Strip."

It was a direct order. She couldn't help but just gape at him.

"Y-You can't just…"

"Strip, Hermione. That's an order."

"No!" She shouted insolently while covering herself with the huge, bulky blanket, her rebellious feisty self back again. "You can't tell me what to do."

"I can," he just simply said. "Strip or I'll kill more people tonight. I don't like it when I don't get what I want, Hermione. You know that."

"Snap out of this, Draco! You're not a murderer!"

"You don't believe me? Do you want to witness it then? Me… killing people in front of you?"

She shook her head meekly, feeling her heart sank. She cried harder as fear crept inside her again. She had temporarily forgotten it, but it's true. _He was not her Draco anymore._

"You're going to hurt me," she looked up at him, trembling in fear. She just looked too innocent and brittle. This undone him, his feature becoming softer as he stared at her.

"It's only going to hurt for a while," he whispered while caressing her neck. "I promise it's going to be alright."

Hermione's hiccups due to her crying slowed down a little as she nodded, like a child being assured of a fake painless endeavor just outside the dentist's room.

"Take your gown off for me now, Princess. Let me see your body," he whispered huskily at her and she did just what she was told, biting her lower lip as she stopped herself from crying even more.

"It doesn't have to be bad, Hermione. I promise you. You, me… we can be happy together. You don't have to fight back."

He was filled with promises, but they were like beautiful illusions of light, like those stunning broken crystals shining under the light beams. You could only stare from afar. Stare nearer and you'll hurt your eyes, touch them and you'll cut yourself, let it stay longer under the sun with you and you will burn…

Draco's eyes were flaring with pure lust as he stared at her, nervously and slowly stripping off for _him_. She was just so innocent, so naïve, so untainted, so unaware of the beauty she possessed… and she was his to take.

"So beautiful," he whispered as he sat down to properly look at her naked body, slowly raising his hand to undo the crystallized silver bobby pins from her updo and pulling the last main fastening that held them together.

As her beautiful tresses flowed gently into her shoulders when they broke free from her ties, his breathing hitched.

He looked enchanted, enthralled like a bold and intrepid sailor from a long journey finally seeing the most beautiful mermaid he'd ever laid his eyes upon.

"Lay down for me, Princess," he whispered, and she did so, exposing her glorious form to him, her ripe breasts leaping up and down due to her heady, nervous breathing. "Fuck, you're just too beautiful," he moaned, trailing his rough hands from her shapely legs, to her well-rounded hips, to the curve of her slender waist, finally cupping her perky breasts before plunging down to kiss her.

Suddenly, he wanted more; the infinite and powerful lust was flowing out from his system nonstop that death could be inevitable if he'd ever stop. Hermione had her eyes closed too tightly as she let him assault her body, nipping, biting, sucking, and licking noisily and raucously on her glistening, addictive skin. He was out of control; she couldn't do anything to stop him.

Her emotions were merging brutally in tune of her heart as she felt him use her body again and again, touching and kissing her, reminding her that no man would ever be allowed to do this but him, that she was created and born for _him_, for his pleasure.

Every touch, every stroke was intoxicating, like she was floating in midair, being abducted by the wind to descend down, in that brain-wracking, deadly pleasure to her heart, to her womb and to that sacred spot between her thighs. Something was roaring on her ears, like an electric effervesce of that strong heady desire flowing out of her.

She was just so lost with the feeling; she didn't know what to do anymore. She just didn't want him to stop as he continued his ravenous ministrations on her body.

Draco was cursing now as he started on tearing his boxers away from his shaking, lust-filled body, urgently needing to feel more, to bury himself inside her.

Hermione was terrified when she finally saw his length. She knew it was just too impossible to even cover half of her, but he started on soothing her again, telling her that it was okay, whispering words of endless promises just to calm her down. At that moment, she tried to forget everything, tried so hard to accept his promises, giving in to that false security.

She knew everything wasn't as good as they sounded, but life wasn't a bed of roses, after all.

This was as close to the happy ending she'd ever get.

Draco had promised her a secured life, a house she wanted, even children if she wanted to. He said he would marry her and would give her everything. He said he would give her the world. He said he could die for her… He said he loved her.

And she accepted them, at the heat of the moment, she did accept them.

Even if she knew, deep down, that the secured life he was offering was for her to be hidden while knowing that people were being killed every day; that the house he was offering was a charmed protected manor close to prison itself; that their children someday would suffer the same fate as she did. The world he would give her would be the world of loss and endless mourning. He'd die for her but he was already dead a long time ago. He loved her, but he had no heart anymore.

Hermione screamed and cried in the moment he had finally taken her, the mixture of the initial pain and blinding pleasure it created afterwards was just too much for her. She cried for everything, cried for pleasure, cried for pain, cried for her shameful abandonment, cried for the lost past, cried for the bleak future, cried for the loss of innocence…

Draco considered her for a while, staying utterly still for her, kissing her and murmuring endless soothing words. Listening to them calmed her somehow, even if she knew they were just sweet, coated lies.

He waited until it was okay to move again, and when she had adjusted to him, he went deeper until he was buried to the hilt, dragging her body with him like a greedy emperor on his first night of supremacy.

The king-bed wobbled and rocked with each of Draco's powerful thrust, Hermione's knuckles were as white as the sheets as they held and crumpled them beneath her. She could hear the creaking of the bed frame mixing with their loud moaning and gasping, along with the powerful slaps of frictions from their bodies… skin to skin… soul to soul.

In the last moments, Draco forced her to look at him. Almost shouting and begging her to tell him she loved him back, and she did so as well; because in that moment, she wasn't the one speaking any longer. Perhaps it was her sexual nature, or maybe just her heart. Or maybe she hadn't really stopped loving him. She didn't know. Was it possible to love a monster back?

She wasn't even thinking. The bursting feelings were too much to even consider anything. It was impossible to do so when her blood had turned into lava as it flowed nonstop into her veins, stinging and viciously prickling each part and compartment it passed through.

She didn't know how it happened, but she had arched her entire lower body into him, clinging to the unquenchable feeling inside her system as she finally came and screamed his name. It was too powerful; she could swear she had almost died. Just seconds later, he followed her, almost straining his muscles with his powerful driving force satiating the insatiable.

They held each other in the upshot and aftermath, inevitably shaking to the compelling force of the activities they'd just done, clinging to each other like they were made that way at the first place.

Draco held her too tightly, too possessively that she was forced to stay there, on his chest, like that of Eve's disposition when she first got out of Adam's chest in the creation of the world.

It was minutes until their panting and heavy breathing ceased into calmer ones.

When Hermione looked up, Draco was fast asleep, full and satisfied.

Hermione tried to shuffle out of his grip but all she could do was just to turn around to her side of the bed. Draco grunted in his sleep and held her even closer by the waist, nuzzling on her neck as he slept soundly behind her, their naked, exhausted bodies glistening through the night.

She was filled with raw emotions. The heady desire was gone now and it was replaced by deep, gashing guilt.

She could see everyone's disappointed and disgusted expression now of what she had just done. She could see Ginny's tear-filled face, looking at her and blaming her for not fighting for her. She could see Theo's sickened and revolted face, charging her for a single promise she couldn't even fulfill. She could see Harry's face staring blankly at her, like she deserved what was coming for her because she had made it happen.

As the stars twinkled in the sky in the middle of the cold December night, Hermione Granger cried herself to sleep, begging the sandman to take her away from this world and to never return her again.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Not Even Human" by ****Angel Taylor**

* * *

**A/N: So here we are after a long time! Lol. I'm so sorry. My October was very busy. In my place, it's like a "night out month" with all these Masskara Festival and Oktoberfest going on and then there's work which demands almost all my time. But I made this chapter longer than the others to make up to the cruel cliffie I've placed and to my late update. So I hope you guys enjoyed this. Thanks and God bless!**

**Love and kisses from, Sue**


	32. Sinful Kisses, Stained Touches

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

"**Sinful Kisses, Stained Touches"**

_**"For what is the beloved? She is that which I myself am not.**__**In the act of love, I am pure male, and she is pure female. **__**She is she, and I am I, and clasped together with her, **__**I know how perfectly she is not me, how perfectly I am not her, **__**how utterly we are two, the light and the darkness, and how infinitely and eternally, **__**not to be comprehended by either of us **__**is the surpassing one we make".**_

_**-D.H. Lawrence**_

Waking up with two grey eyes intensely staring at you wasn't exactly a typical surreal experience. It was surreal, but never typical.

Such a paradox it was, when a certain evil sprite could look like an innocent angel somehow, with his blond hair immaculately shining with the morning rays, forming an unimpeachable halo gliding just above his head. It was the one she'd seen when they were younger, every time the sun would hit his hair on that idyllic garden they called paradise before.

She wanted to touch the halo, to feel it gliding on her skin, to make it tingle. But touching and reaching out would just make her open her eyes to the truth that it was just a beautiful illusion. A chimera of her lost past. It was like chasing the end of the rainbow and knowing that there was never a pot of gold in there at the first place.

The eyes were always to blame, but more often than not, it was always just the blinded heart.

"Good morning, Princess," he whispered in that golden, liquefied, husky voice of his. He sounded like harmonica to her, reverberating through the mystifying zephyr, pulling, hypnotizing.

He was smiling then, looking regal as the dark prince himself.

Strangers could come and go, but she was one of those people who would travel and swim the oceans just to witness that glorious smile.

His face showed the opposite of everything. She was almost convinced that they were in a different world, that he was just the man she loved and all the complications just melted away.

He looked calm, happy… peaceful.

She wanted to cry again for the false impression.

"I managed to get a day off. Can you imagine? The dark lord rarely gives that shit to his followers. He values me more than any of them, even from Snape himself," he told her proudly, like a schoolboy wanting to have her parents' proud recognition of what he just accomplished.

Hermione suddenly felt sick to the core. A day off? A day off for what? Killing people?

He was talking to her about being a death-eater in a tune of stoic normalcy. She felt nauseated of it all.

"Please don't remind me of what you are." Hermione found her voice somehow. It sounded vindictive, but she didn't care.

Draco's good mood seemed to sour all of a sudden. Hermione could see the muscles on his naked chest, rippling a bit, his tightened jaw seemed to strain in derision.

Her vision unconsciously went in a straight line towards his arm, tainted with the dark mark. She had seen it last night but had never really registered that much in her jumbled, muddled, almost unsteady mind.

When Draco noticed that she was staring at his mark, he abruptly stood up, almost like he was ashamed, but she wasn't sure. He was a master of poker faces, after all.

Hermione watched him as he took his satin black bathrobe, wearing it and looking like a regal king as he stood in front of her. "Stop spoiling our morning, Princess. I'm warning you," he told her sternly.

Hermione just pursed her lips and looked away when he tried to kiss her. He sighed and kissed her cheek instead.

"Come, the maidservants are going in to fix the beddings," he ordered while opening a silky white bathrobe for her to get into.

Hermione blushed deeply, realising the scattered stains of blood on the bed sheets. Before she could protest, however, Draco had come nearer to wrap the bathrobe around her shoulders, gently forcing her to get inside the robe. She didn't need to be told twice as she slipped her arms into the robe and stood up with him as he dragged her nearer, his arms were possessively intertwined around her waist as they stared at the remnants of last night's activities.

"Do you see that? That's a proof of my claim on you," he whispered into her ear, sounding very proud and conceited.

Hermione just wanted to melt in embarrassment by the time the maidservants, together with two bony house elves, went it. She couldn't believe she just bled so much last night. She knew Draco had at least considered her as it was her first time, but he wasn't that soft to her either. He'd always been passionate of everything and it wasn't a surprise. The intensity had been too much and she was even a bit sore until now.

If the maidservants noticed the stains, however, then they did not show it; in which Hermione, for once, was very thankful for. The house elves were all too scared to care as the maidservants bossed them around like dogs. They looked emotionless as they carefully folded the bed linen to keep as their Young Lord instructed.

It broke Hermione's heart, but she just couldn't do anything when those strong arms were impeding her to even move a single inch.

Draco carried her to the shower right afterwards.

He loved carrying her. She didn't know why she was just letting him. Maybe, she was too scared to care as well.

When he took her bathrobe off, she couldn't help but step back a little and cover herself. This made him chuckle amusedly at her, reminding her again that she really didn't need to do that when they'd done so much more last night.

He was different that morning, almost like he'd shifted from his cold exterior to his old self; the old Draco that would smile sweetly at her, the old Draco that would consider her comfort above anything.

He washed her body like he worshiped her. He was the gentlest, making sure to softly sponge her sore spots, easing the dried blood on her thighs, wiping them away like he was pledging his love for her.

The sun from the crystal window glass touched their skins in its sweetest glow, warming them on the huge bathtub. Each drop of water was like gemstones shining on their naked bodies as they stared at each other like it was once again the first time.

Maybe it was a borrowed time. Perhaps there could be nothing more but a rented moment, but still, a certain moment, no matter how quick it was could never be forgotten by the heart that remembers.

"What are you thinking?" Draco whispered as he traced the soft beads of water on her skin, drawing patterns with his fingertip on her neck and shoulders.

"Aren't you already capable of knowing that?" She asked him back. Snape had warned her of Draco's supremacy in the art of Legilimency, even teaching her the shortest scope of Occlumency just to prepare her from the possible threat before handing her to this place. It was very difficult to learn and she hadn't even learned half of the scope yet. If Draco wanted it, he really would have had entered her mind and she couldn't have had done anything about it.

Yet, when she told Professor Snape that she wasn't ready yet, he just gave her a cold shoulder and told her it didn't matter, anyway. He didn't even seem threatened of the fact that Draco might know their secret and everything would fall apart. They didn't have enough time and that it didn't matter if she couldn't know fully.

What mattered was time, he said.

She didn't understand, but maybe she was made not to understand everything at the first place.

"For a smart girl, you can be very naïve and ignorant. But sometimes, you're just plain cruel," Draco told her as he gently played with her hair, slowly twirling their slick form on his finger.

"Please come back, Draco. You still can. If you're worried about the proceedings in the Order then I can help you. This isn't _you_. Please listen to me," she pleaded while leaning nearer to touch his calm face, his pale skin glistening against the droplets of water.

She didn't know why she was doing it, but every time Draco shifted to his soft exterior, it felt like it gave her hope and she needed to try again and again until it would fade once more.

"You used to heal me when we were younger. Do you remember?" He suddenly told her.

She didn't know why he was talking this way. She could only stare at him and the more she stared, the more he became beautiful, the more everything became like a dream, the more she wanted to slip further into that nonexistent bliss safely tucked inside her cataleptic state.

She could hear the melody from the waters that surrounded them, like a lullaby from her old music box that always took her little self to a slumber filled with magical imaginings.

"Everything was so simple back then. We were very young, so unaware of the future," Draco started to whisper. His voice was too beautiful, her eyes almost fluttered in the softness of the gentle windswept hum.

Slowly, their fingers touched into the waters, teasing, tracing, until their palms met, slipping the barriers of water away to finally hold each other. They fit perfectly, his whole, slender hand covering almost everything of her little one.

"At that garden, all I saw was your face… how you smiled, how you held my hand, how you laughed, how you danced around with your dress flowing with the wind. I made a promise to myself when we fought one time and you left me sitting alone on the pond's edge," he said.

"I was always a lonely boy, you know. But I was always okay with it. I always _wanted_ to be alone, always wanted everything for myself. But that time on the pond changed everything I wanted. Sitting there, I realised I never truly wanted to be alone. And I wanted no one else but you. It was important to me. It might never be of significance to you, but it was for me. You had a lot of friends, and I didn't have even a single one. I was proud of myself because for the first time, I knew something I wanted and that I had something to fight for. I am a selfish man, Hermione. I've always been selfish. But you were everything that ever mattered to that boy and I'll give that to him. I can do anything just to have that. They can kill me. They can torture me. I can die trying to keep you, but I'll never give you up. You must know that," he told her while slowly raising his other hand to caress the tears that had mixed with the shower's water on her face.

"You can't hide away from everything, Draco. This is the real world now. We're not little kids anymore. Please wake up. This isn't a game anymore. This isn't hiding and seeking. You'll be punished for what you've done," she told him desperately but he wasn't listening as he smiled softly at her.

He was like a slow dying flower, so beautiful but would be gone in a while, and she was desperate to save him, to shield him from the winter's death. But even her soul wasn't enough any longer. A season is a season, no matter what, it will always thrive with time, and time itself can never be stopped even with a broken timepiece.

"You're an angel, and I am not. But I'll hold on to the sin of selfishness if I have to. If everything ends, I'll let it," he softly whispered before leaning down to cup her face. "But then, above all, I'll be holding you closer the most."

And then he kissed her, deeply, passionately.

She kissed him back, like a wanton nymph tasting the lips of the first mortal man she'd ever seen.

It was a sinful kiss.

Crying in guilt wouldn't even erase the fact on how forbidden it was.

It was never sketched out to happen, so decadent, so aberrant… but oh so delicious.

Maybe she was made this way. Maybe she was really twisted inside. She wanted sweetness from tears. She wanted future from the fogged covered narrow way than that of the beautiful open meadow. She was so tempted by the eternal reverie that she was willing to abandon realism itself for this unstable moment.

She wanted a murderer's hands to touch her, to feel her skin, to stroke her most sacred places, to corrupt her body with the poisoned stains it produced.

She wanted this criminal to tarnish her.

The water from the tub slipped out from her fingers and palms like silk as she ran her hands on his toned chest, each touch sending ripples from his muscles, vibrating tensely on each contact.

That was when she felt it.

His heart.

He looked like he didn't have it, but it was there. At the back of his hard, stoned outer walls, just behind his ribcage, it was there, living and beating for her kisses.

He took her slowly this time, with such trembling passion and craze. She accepted him with everything in her, holding her breath in those moments of extreme rapture.

It was not long enough that they were one again. Draco, being inside her, gave her the feeling of fulfillment. He controlled the pace in the start, guiding her to ease into him, but later on she reveled with the feel of that shot of dominance he had rented her.

She felt untouchable, felt safe, felt like the most powerful woman on earth when he was there to catch her. She let the feelings swallowed her, pushing any presages and foreshadows away for a while.

Because she needed it.

This time, she just really needed it.

And maybe because she knew, even her last tear would and only fall for him, for that little boy sitting near the pond.

At the aftermath, they held each other for what seemed like an eternity. He was still inside her and neither one of them wanted to move away. It was such a beautiful release. It would forever stay inside her heart. She was still on his lap as Draco closed his eyes; catching his breath and resting his head on her breasts as she held him like that of a little boy.

"Please don't go away. Please don't…" He murmured on her breasts, the mixture of his sweat, water and tears fused with her skin.

Hermione stared at the fog covered pristine stained glasses of the bathroom, relishing at the spectrum of colours it formed as she soothingly caressed her exhausted lover's hair.

There was no halo on his head as she touched his hair, but she realised she didn't care. It didn't matter that he was no angel. Nothing really mattered any longer, after all.

In the shards of emptiness, it was so easy to believe in a promise, in that flicker of hope.

In the wreckage of optimism, it was so easy to believe everything was going to be okay even if you knew you were doomed to be swallowed by that black hole anyway.

But this time, maybe she wanted to believe.

Perhaps, she was crazy, but it was better to lose sanity than to lose a heart.

"Yes," she whispered while kissing his hair, the place where his phantom halo stood. "For you, I will."

* * *

The sounds of his calm footsteps echoed as Blaise Zabini cautiously walked inside the huge, imperial room.

It was one of Draco's favourite rooms inside the manor.

It was wide and spacey, with only a single antique, rounded dining table at the side. Four intricately designed wooden chairs surrounded it. The huge wall mounted wooden wine rack was certainly one of the attractions of the deserted place. Draco liked his expensive aged wines, although he preferred to drink whiskey more.

Blaise was under the impression that Draco just really liked to show off his treasures, as some of those wines were even considered worth more than gold itself.

It was a bit too disturbing to walk that long just to hear what the sitting blond had to say to him. The place was Draco's personal training ground with the dark lord himself, his very own dojo as he'd liked to call it.

The young lord was idly crossing his legs as he sipped on his whiskey. He had a very stoic face, he seemed bored even. It was a good thing he also seemed to be in a good mood to even consider throwing some things, thank fucking Merlin.

"You called for me," Blaise carefully spoke as he stopped in front of his childhood friend. He was still quite wary of the fact that Draco tried to kill him once for failing to save Hermione. He must admit that the girl's reappearance had actually saved his life somehow.

"Come drink with me," Draco just simply stated, summoning one of his expensive wines for his old friend.

Blaise just stared at him, an eyebrow rising in appraisal.

"What? Montague is getting boring to talk to," Draco just shrugged while downing another drink.

"So that's it? After you almost killed me, now you want to be friends again just because you have your girl back?" Blaise scoffed.

"Yes," Draco answered while handing him a goblet. He said it as if it was just that simple. It reminded Blaise of the boy he first met on a party when they were younger, and on how he pushed him into a cake table just because his mother seemed to like him more. "Drink."

"Fucking insane," Blaise mumbled before sitting down and harshly snatching the goblet, some wine had spilled out into his olive skin before he tossed it down on his throat.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I placed some poison in that," Draco just uttered casually, which made Blaise choke out in shock, his eyes widening madly as he strangled himself. He went like that for about a whole minute, coughing and thrashing about, as Draco laughed on his demise.

"Kidding," the blond finally said before his friend had lost it. He seemed to be really amused of his little joke as he chuckled darkly and even made a toast to his stunned and utterly enraged friend.

"_Fuck you_, Draco! Dammit!" Blaise shouted angrily as he threw the goblet into the floor while wiping the side of his lips with a shaky arm. "You're a sick psycho! You know that?"

"And you're pathetic and wimpy… couldn't take a joke," Draco rolled his eyes while nonchalantly lighting a cigarette for himself. "Calm the fuck down, honestly."

Blaise had his fists tightly closed in annoyance as he tried to calm his breathing. When he was composed enough, he sat down again and studied his friend.

So much had changed in him just days he finally had Hermione. It was really startling, almost miraculous, seeing him like this again. It was even as if his best friend was back again. Almost.

He was still incredibly sinister and baleful, but the improvement was truly remarkable in some ways.

"So, where is she?" Blaise asked him after a lengthy silence.

"Sleeping," Draco shrugged. "She needs her rest."

"You tire her up too much," Blaise smirked.

"I do," Draco uttered smugly.

He was really in his good mood now, Blaise decided to test that. "They said mudbloods are really good in bed."

Draco didn't say a thing as he just continued on pouring himself with a drink.

"You hate it when someone reminds you of what she really is, don't you?" It was Blaise' turn to smirk at his old friend.

"What is it to you?" Draco looked a bit annoyed now as he placed his glass down.

"Your parents talked to me. They don't fancy the fact that you've sent them to live on one of your summer houses while you govern over the whole Manor house. They're also horrified of the fact that you've cancelled your engagement with Astoria Greegrass. Daphne told me about her sister's outrage. You pretty much broke the girl's heart," Blaise informed him while lighting a cigarette of his own.

"You're really still dating that slut?" Draco snorted, still holding a huge grudge on what Daphne and her friends had done to Hermione before.

"As if you've never dated Pans just a few months back," Blaise jeered, making Draco look at him in a deathly glare. Blaise had to look down and clear his throat in discomfort. Draco never wanted to be questioned, ever.

"About my parents, they _owe_ me their sodding lives. They can't order me around anymore and they perfectly know that. It is _I_ that keeps them alive. The least they can do is to be grateful about it." Draco continued as if he wasn't interrupted.

"So… you're really going to marry Hermione? No matter what, she's still a mudblood. What does the dark lord say about this?"

"We made a pact. I give him Dumbledore's head; he gives me everything I want. I _want_ Hermione. It's that simple. As long as I keep the dark lord happy, I keep her."

"Growing up with you, I somehow have an idea on how your twisted mind works, Draco. I bloody know you're obsessed with her. She's fucking beautiful, yes. But we all know, and I know that you do so as well, that a mudblood is really just _nothing_ but just a good fuck. They're the lowest of all the lowest shit in this world. They're still inferior to us, Draco. And I know that even you—_especially_ _you—_can't really deny that," Blaise reminded him.

"I _will_ marry Hermione," Draco uttered firmly, repeating his very declaration as if it was law itself.

"Why? So you can keep her legs open for you?"

"She's mine! No one else can have her!" Draco was starting to lose his patience now as he stood up, thumping his fists on the rounded table.

"She's all yours, Draco. But you must remember that you're a pureblood. You can keep her but it still won't change the fact that she's _really still a mudblood_. She's still an abomination, the very thing that you've been so disgusted before. Did she change your views as well?"

"I don't—I don't bloody know, okay?" Draco was literally pacing now as he ran a distracted hand on his hair. "Hermione—she's just… she's _different_. She doesn't embody anything a mudblood should be. It's like she was born as an exception, if that even makes sense. She confuses me. Sometimes, I think she's not really a mudblood, that she's really the daughter of the Puceys still, that all this mudblood shit of her heritage is just a mistake."

"But it's not a mistake, Draco. _She is a mudblood_. You must accept that. It's the truth."

"Then why the hell is she smart? She's the smartest witch of our age, dammit! Why is she such a powerful witch, even? Why is she _that_ beautiful? Why does she exceed everything a common mudblood shouldn't have? She's more than average, and for a mudblood, that is just plain wrong!" Draco was practically thrashing around now, ready to tear all his hair out in frustration. It surprised Blaise on just how much his mood could be so affected when Hermione Granger was the topic.

"So, you really still don't believe that she's a mudblood?"

"I—I don't know! I had the picture of mudbloods so clear to me before. They're all inferiors, just a fucking waste in our world. Nothing could ever be beautiful in them. They're less than special. They're all so disgusting as shit. The thought of them even makes me feel sick. But Hermione… it's like—it's like she came to destroy all that and I really still can't accept it. She must—she must be a pureblood somehow, or even a half-blood. Yes. That must be it. There must have been some mistake. I will go to the bottom of this." Draco seemed to be talking to himself more as he nodded and chugged down another glass of his whiskey, his hair was undeniably tousled like he'd just woken up from a really weary sleep.

"Are you even serious? So you're going to investigate her heritage then? What if you'll just verify the fact that _she really_ is a mudblood? What are you going to do about it? What are you going to do with her? Throw her away like you did the last time?" Blaise challenged him.

"She's _not_ a mudblood! Even _you_ can see it! I mean, just _look at her_!" Draco's once pale cheeks and calm disposition were utterly gone now as he continued pacing and cursing on the spacey room.

"What is the difference of mudbloods to purebloods, anyway, Draco? Except for the heritage, what really is the difference? Even their blood is as red as ours. How can you tell that Hermione is a mudblood or not, then? What do you see when you look at her?" Blaise asked him. He wanted to know, himself. In a world they'd grown and lived with, sometimes, it was too difficult to provoke certain details like these. They were living on a one sided crystal on a diamond's multifaceted body, never truly knowing the real reflection on the other side, on which reflection was truly the authentic one.

"When I… when I look at her," Draco stopped as he stared at the windows. Blaise could see the ragged, urgent breathing on his shirt. But he looked calmer then. He was always calmer when he thought of her, like she soothed him even by just a memory. "All I see is my dream girl. When I look at her, I forget what it's like to be sorted to classes. When I look at her, I forget even my own blood, my own kind or hers. When I–when I look at her, I forget what it's like… to hate a mudblood."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Song for Draco in this chapter: "Restless" by Switchfoot.** This is a Christian song about Jesus and the journey of life, about salvation but it can also be multifaceted and can be given the meaning of a man in love. This song embodies Draco's confusion, uncertainty and trepidation. He isn't exactly very proud of himself but he isn't one to not deny that even. He'd grown up in a very different world, been tainted, made stronger, and then made to become the stone that he is now. _"Running hard for the other side.__The world that I've always been denied.__Running hard for the infinite.__With the tears of saints and hypocrites."_Draco is such a complex character, but none of us can really blame him for it. He chose to be stronger even if by doing it, he ended up being the weaker one, if that even makes sense. But no matter how much he'd run to hide, he'll still run in circles to look for _her_, despite of everything, he'd still really run and look for her the most. Gaaah! I can't even…

**Song for Hermione in this chapter: "Feels Like Home" by Edwina Hayes.** The first time I've heard this song in "My Sister's Keeper", I cried so hard that it hurt badly. You know, when you cry nonstop just because there's that really heavy, almost nauseating feeling inside your heart. This song means a lot. For me, the lyrics show just how happy the memory is at the present, but there's that certain point when you know that the happiness is just a temporary bliss for an impending doom, like a compensation of the moment, that's what makes it the most depressing, heartbreaking song despite of its almost ethereal, positive lyrics. It's like a make-believe promise to reassure the moment, even if you know, deep inside, that no matter how much you want to stay in that moment, it will never last. Gaaahh, even while typing this, I can feel a barb on my throat and chest! It hurts. I can feel Hermione's wounds. I'm being so cruel to her, but more than anything, it affects me so much and I'll be honest that I've cried so many times while writing this story. I am not ashamed about it. I cry a lot anyway. I guess it's my normal state. Haha. But this story is starting to consume me. It's very special to me. No matter how people will look at it, love it or hate it, I'll always remember just how much it played with my emotions. Sweet Merlin, I sound pathetic! Haha.

Anyway, thank you all so much for the reviews. I'll try my hardest to give more to this story. I appreciate each and every review you've given me. I'm learning a lot from them, gaining confidence and they just make me very happy above all. Thank you so much! I love you. :)

God bless you and have a sweet day,

Sue


	33. Sweetest Downfall

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"**Sweetest Downfall"**

* * *

"_**And **__**Delilah **__**said to Samson, Tell me, I pray thee, wherein thy great strength lieth, and wherewith thou mightest be bound to afflict thee.**__**"**_

_**Judges 16:6**_

* * *

**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire England**

**April, 1997**

He failed again.

For the third time, Draco Malfoy failed again and he was more than furious. The monstrosity of the room was terrifying as he screamed, cursed and threw some expensive vases and glasses into the wall. The breakfast table they usually shared was now nothing more but a piece of furniture strewn haphazardly into the floor.

Hermione was at the corner, trembling and pushing herself into the wall as she waited for him to finish his outburst.

She wasn't afraid that he would hurt her. Her husband had never hurt her. There were nights wherein he'd be very drunk and would use her for his own pleasure. He could be rough at times, but never to the point of hurting her. She was even more afraid that he might inflict damage and injure himself.

She knew what to do in these instances by now.

She just had to watch until he'd get exhausted and crumple himself into the marble floor.

Usually, his flare-up would just take minutes. By the time he was done, she knew that was when her job would start.

She would run into him, kiss him and whisper sweet nothings to calm him down.

She would have to spend the whole night listening to his endless protests and frustrations.

But she would be there for him, to heal him, to soothe him, to listen to him like the devoted wife that she is, to pleasure him like she did every night, to give him everything he wanted of her body, of everything that she could give.

She supposed she should feel a bit guilty at least, for she was the very root of his demise nonetheless.

But every time his head was buried on her breasts like a meek, discouraged boy, she couldn't help the forbidden, furtive smirk on her lips.

Thinking about it made her feel like she was the evil one in this game. She had to constantly remind herself that she had saved hundreds of lives by playing with the circle of deceitfulness and betrayal.

But Hermione was a sponge of erudition and knowledge. She had never been one to stand there and do nothing when she knew she had the chance to do something.

But was she really the evil one? Who was the first to forget, if truth be told?

There were times she would question her sanity, on how and why she just couldn't let him go. On how and why she just couldn't resist him, on how and why every time he would call for her, she would be running back to him, doing exactly what he wanted her to do. Even if all the wreckage in this worthless world knew exactly of the hatred and contempt she still felt for him.

She'd been fighting it for so long because she knew just how much hurt it had caused her.

But maybe, truth be told, even if realism couldn't allow it, Hermione was still irrevocably in love with the very monster that broke her.

It was insanity, to the point of pure stupidity.

It was an unexplainable feeling, how much she loved and hated him at the same time. It was like wanting to kill the person but the only thing you could do was to stab him nonstop, to feel those screaming blood on your hands, to know that you've hurt him just as much as he had hurt you.

Yet, after everything, you would heal him anyway, would stitch and cover his wounds; it was even you who would clean up the mess and the blood on the floor. Cleaning up your own shit, they said.

It was sick.

But maybe, she was sick.

Or he was.

Or the both of them.

Or this thing people called love, if they could even call it that way in this state. She didn't know anymore.

But in truth, maybe, she just really couldn't forgive him.

He'd done so much more than break her.

Maybe the time that she could actually _really_ forgive him would be the time of his death, when he would be nothing more but a cold corpse, with no memories, with no cruelty and conviction.

But she didn't want him to. She didn't want him to die, so perhaps, the time that she would forgive him would never come.

Sometimes, when she would stare at his sleeping form at night, contentedly holding her tightly like his very own doll, she was consumed by the dilemma between strangling him to kissing him.

They destroy each other, but they'll both die without the other.

It was an unhealthy relationship where the only choice was to stay.

But Hermione Malfoy wouldn't stop at that if she knew she had the power to lessen the sins of their union.

They say that a woman could cause a man's downfall after all.

She didn't quite understand that before.

But, right now, being in the situation where she had induced the death of certain death-eaters to save a hundred lives just by a mere smile to this man, made her realise everything.

She felt… powerful.

She'd been imprisoned in this Manor for months but this was the third glory she'd ever made.

To say that she had prided herself of anything was beyond her. But she guessed she should. Professor Snape had once told her that she had already played such a great role in this war by saving hundreds of innocent lives and that the Order was very proud of what she had by far accomplished.

Draco had never failed to put her in her place, to always remind her that she was his and that she couldn't do anything except to cling and depend on him.

This was what he thought, of course; because this was what she had allowed him to think.

She did everything he wanted, had never even once questioned his orders, and had given up even her own free will and dignity just to serve him with everything of her.

She knew that Draco's obsession for her was the only power she had left, and she would make use of that if she had to, even if that meant she needed to exploit it.

Never once did she even ask him to let him get out of the room. Who knew this could actually work the opposite way? It was even he who had finally asked her to accompany him to the gardens.

He said the death-eaters under him had been stationed somewhere that day, and only a few were left to guard outside.

The gardens and the Malfoy Lake were freed of any scumbags that day and he said she needed a little sun.

They strolled around the gardens, swam the lake afterwards and made love under the tree on that small picnic mat.

She felt like a child again. In some unreservedly unreasonable way, she felt protected when she was with him. It was funny how she could feel that way to a murderer himself.

It was so far, the best memory Hermione ever had in this place. He had picked a daffodil and tucked it behind her ear. He said she was beautiful. He said she was his Princess.

From that day on, he had given her the privilege to at least enter some of the parts of the manor, provided he was there to accompany her.

The Malfoy Manor was a mansion filled with death-eaters going in and out. It wasn't as private as before any longer. It was no longer the home of the wealthy pure-blood Malfoy family. It was more like a headquarters now, the base of operations for the second wizarding war.

She'd been his perfect, submissive, loving wife and he finally trusted her enough that she wouldn't ever run away from him.

And she reveled in it.

She reveled in every moment he would make her see how important she was to him.

She even reveled that right in this very moment, he was seeking her comfort like his life depended on it, never knowing that the girl he'd been holding was the traitor herself.

Maybe her mother was right; men could kneel in front of her once she used the powers of seduction and deception.

It was a classic game of women.

It never truly failed.

History books had harboured stories about how men could be trampled by just smiles from the women they loved.

Adam was banished from paradise for believing in Eve's temptation.

Samson was invincible. He was the strongest man that ever lived, had ripped apart a lion with his bare hands, and had killed thousands of his enemies by his mere strength.

His enemies' only dream was his downfall, but it never came until Delilah did it for them.

He died because of the woman he had first truly loved.

Helen of Troy had the face that launched a thousand ships, resulting to the death of more than thousands of innocent people and the destruction of an unconquerable kingdom.

Cadmus Peverell, one of the initial owners of the Deathly Hallows, used the resurrection stone to bring back the woman he loved. But the stone could only call forth an apparition that would vanish when he would let go of it. He was so in love with her that he wanted to be with her permanently, thus he killed himself in the end. He was swallowed by death because of the woman he loved.

Maybe women were really evil creatures.

Maybe it was the beauty that cause proud, commonsensical men to fall into the depths of insanity.

Men were created to be stronger, to be leaders, to destroy cities, to rule over lands, to cross oceans and conquer the world.

But some books may have forgotten to note, that truly, lies behind every man's success and defeat was a woman.

And Hermione would use this.

She was but a woman, but she would use this truth to serve him lies.

In a world where what truly mattered was survival and continued existence for those who hope, she knew she'd do anything in her power to keep the dark wind from shattering that single light from the town's almost dying torch.

Even if that meant breaking his heart.

"I don't fucking understand," Draco groaned against her warm bosom, relishing in the feel of her soft, cunning hands massaging his head. "It was all carefully planned out. How can those bloody Aurors know exactly where the attack would ensue?" He growled in frustration, but Hermione just arched her chest into him more, all the while kissing his temple in the most loving way possible.

"You never know what's going to happen, Draco. Sometimes, the most perfect plan can be ruined not by the enemy but by an inside's rivalry," she whispered while slowly holding his hand to place it on top of her ample breast. She knew he liked it when she'd initiate the act of making him touch her. She had learned his weaknesses and was continuing to learn more.

"What do you mean?" He asked as he looked up at her from his lying position on her chest, his hand twitched and started to grasp the breast she was guiding him to feel. He loved touching her. He'd do it anytime. She knew.

"You told me that Blaise Zabini was given the same task on a different location, didn't you?"

"Yes, perhaps, I did."

"What happened to his mission, then?"

"It went fucking well. The dark lord rewarded him new slaves," Draco spat in contempt and envy, much to Hermione's approval.

"You're so much better than him, Draco. You've always been better. You're the best among the dark lord's followers," she whispered seductively while gently turning around to push him into the pillows.

Months before, she'd probably feel embarrassed of what she was doing now. If her virginal self could take a peek on this scene, she'd probably deny that she was the same girl.

But she was not that innocent girl anymore. She was a grown woman now, swallowed in her own sensuality and on each passion on the nights her lover had taught her.

The faint golden light of scented candles of exotic embers and sweet basil glided through her skin as she smiled beautifully at him. He was lying and looking up at her while she sat on his stomach, her hair flowing down like magical waves of curtains as she looked down at him, looking like the goddess that she was.

He stared at her, mouth slightly opened as he took in her beauty, being drunk of it all.

Hermione knew in these moments, she had him wrapped around her fingers again. She could play with his mind when it was fogged with so much lust. She had discovered it through their endless nights of fervor and obsessive abandon.

"What do you mean?" He asked; his eyes flickering in pure ardor as he watched her slowly take her nightgown off, exposing her naked body into him with only her silky knickers on. His hands had automatically reached out to touch every skin they could get in contact with.

"I don't know," she said, leaning down to meet his lust-filled eyes, letting his hands do whatever they wanted. "Didn't you once told me that Blaise seem to envy your status with the dark lord? You said he's jealous because you're as young as him but you've already accomplished more than any of the death-eaters could garner."

"Yes, I've told you that. But Blaise is loyal to me," he mumbled incoherently in between kisses, pulling her closer to him so he could have more. "It's even Snape that I'm worried about. Blaise doesn't have the guts to get closer to the dark lord. He usually is just very safe. Snape is a different story. He'd been the dark lord's favourite before. And once, he tried to take my glory."

"I don't think Snape is a threat," she told him before plunging down to kiss him even fervently, making him whine when she broke it apart to continue her point. "He's too old. Blaise, however, has a lot to look forward to in his future."

"Mmm… whatever you say, Princess." Draco was clearly lost by her quintessence now, getting up in an attempt to get her body closer as possible as she squirmed on his lap.

It was clear that he didn't want to talk anymore as he sent open-mouthed kisses on her neck, completely lost by the sweetness of her skin. But Hermione just wouldn't let it go. "You know, Blaise can be pretty good at anything if he wants to. He's pretty powerful as well. He's—"

"Why are you suddenly very interested in him?" Draco looked unmistakably enraged now, remembering the fact that he just had his third failed mission a while ago. The angry glare of jealousy mixed with obsessive lust was now very evident on his eyes.

Hermione tried to look nonchalant, but inside she was congratulating herself for earning her targeted result. "I don't know. It just seems that... he's becoming really good, you know, and—"

"Stop it!" Draco growled. Hermione gasped when he had all of a sudden twisted their bodies so she was under him, pinning both her hands above her head with his right hand, his left cupping her cheek harshly to make her look at him. "Don't _ever _talk about Blaise like that! Don't _ever_ talk about any _other man_ like that! I don't want any other man's name coming out from your mouth from now on! Do you hear me?"

"I was just—" Hermione wasn't able to finish her sentence when Draco had brutally crashed his mouth into hers, bruising her lips and reminding her to where she truly belonged.

"You are _my fucking wife_! I own everything of you! You're not even allowed to look or think about any other man other than me, let alone talk about them! Don't dare forget your place, and it's always under me!"

He took her brutally that night. He would resort to his animalistic urges when he was angry and frustrated. But she knew it was coming, anyway. She had committed to her memory everything that he was, of what a monster he truly could be.

In the months that she had spent with her husband, she knew how his temper worked. She could control him by being compliant and submissive again once she knew she had crossed that barrier of control inside his body, like a certain automatic switch.

He took her too many times that night that she had even lost count, even to the point of her almost passing out. She had tried to calm him by being the most compliant lover that she was but this even untamed him, seeing that it had given him the feral sensations of his dominance over her.

Her husband was the most domineering, possessive man she'd ever met, even to the point of telling her that he had been including contraceptive potions on her drinks. He said he didn't want her to get pregnant yet as he didn't want to share her to anyone, even to their future child.

He promised her that they would have a child someday, but never in this moment yet. He said he wanted her just for himself alone.

Hermione didn't really argue with him. She was too young and just wasn't ready for that responsibility, and she knew just how much her child would suffer in this kind of environment. Nobody deserved this. And she wouldn't allow any child of her to do so.

She had learned to get used to what he was. He would control everything of her. He was most jealous in any threat that could take her away from him. He was her trophy somehow, and she represented his victory.

He was the most desirous, envious monster, but she had learned to use that to her own advantage one way or another.

She was satisfied of the effect that her little talk had done to the happenings for a while.

Draco had become more and more paranoid of his godfather and she knew she needed to do something about it. She needed to sway his focus away from Professor Snape for a while. And the easiest way to do it was to make him jealous of someone else.

Professor Snape was the only access she had in taking news from the people she left behind. Through him, she had at least secured the safety of her muggle parents. For now, they were, at least kept safe from anything that was going on inside the Wizardry world. Her old family, the Puceys, had no power in the hierarchy any longer. The last of their properties, except the Pucey Manor house, were all sold to pay their over mounting debts. It was a good thing that Adrian, through his Quidditch career and the anonymous donor that was actually Hermione, had managed to save their home. To know that they were not starving out in the cold allowed Hermione to breathe. She knew that her father wasn't getting any younger and goodness forbid just how her mother, the old aristocratic Lady Petrova, would faint if she was forced to roam out in the cold without a home to get into.

Professor Snape was even kind enough to secretly sell some of the jewels she had given him so she could help her old family. They all thought that Snape, along with a generous anonymous donor, was the one who was continuously helping them with their finances.

She knew she wasn't a Pucey anymore and everything that was happening to them was none of her business. But she had grown up with them. They had raised her and nothing could ever make her forget that. She had loved them, at least.

Since the day Draco had married her and claimed her to be his wife, she had been given an ample amount of money in her very own account at the volt of Gringgots. She was allowed certain perquisites, provided she had to use them for herself alone. So she had decided to purchase a lot of trinkets and jewelries every time the family jeweler would come to the manor.

Draco never questioned why she never wore the jewels she had purchased at the first place, since he was always pleased on seeing her wearing the jewels he, himself, had given her. Little he knew that she was actually passing the ones that she had bought to Snape in order for him to help her old family and even the Order's finances. She had to be very discreet however, so she could only pass some jewels when they were really needed the most.

So when Draco expressed his suspicion and mistrust to his godfather, she knew she had to do something.

The green-eyed monster inside her husband was perhaps, one of the most powerful temperaments he owned. It was the easiest target as well. She would use it whenever she needed to.

Fueling his jealousy to someone else would somehow sway his attention for a while. He was very protective and fixated of her, almost to the point that he could imprison her inside the room just so she wouldn't be able to see anybody but him.

"Who do you love?"

"You, Draco. I love you."

"Who do you belong to?" He demanded in deep ragged breathing as he roughly took her.

She knew what to respond. It was the only answer. "You Draco, I belong to you."

* * *

Hermione's hands were getting a bit worn out while kneading and stroking her husband's naked back.

Draco needed the massage tonight, and she couldn't stop until he would say so.

It was one of those nights where he was just plain morose and unstable. It was always the cause of an upshot from a bloodied night of warfare.

She could hear his occasional moans, sighing in delight from her ministrations. She was seated on the small of his back, legs apart and gripping both his sides like a spider as she tenderly massaged each tensed muscle from his backside. He was lying on his stomach while his head was reclined on a pillow, facing his left side so he could watch their current position in the room's extremely large, gargantuan mirror.

"So beautiful," he whispered as he stared at her reflection in the mirror, with her skimpy nighties teasingly slithering above her thighs as she continued on her task of massaging him. "Sometimes, I think, you're not real."

Hermione didn't say anything and just concentrated on her task.

Draco loved staring at her.

Sometimes, she would wake up and find him sitting at a settee near their bed, with nothing but his black, silky bathrobe on, with his unruly morning platinum blond hair shining with the sunlit room and his legs sophisticatedly crossed. He would do nothing but stare at her while sipping on his whiskey, like a landlord looking at his extensive terrain by his veranda.

Sometimes, while he would have the time to join her on her meals, he'd stare at her as if nothing mattered in this world but her feature. Sometimes, before they went to sleep, Draco would do nothing but just stare at her until his slumber would take him.

He just loved staring at her. It angered him the most if she wasn't there waiting for him whenever he'd get home.

But when Draco would resort on his musings about her while staring at her like this, it would make her a bit nervous to anything that he might find out. He had once pointed out that he would never use legilimency on her, but still, she couldn't just rely on that when so many lives were at stake at this moment.

"You confuse me just as much as I confuse myself," he continued while Hermione tried her best to empty her mind.

When Draco noticed that she seemed vacant and was ignoring him, his temper flared once again. "Hermione," he muttered in a warning tone. He hated being ignored.

"I'm sorry," she spoke softly as she felt him tugging her hands on his shoulder. She slowly got up from his back as he turned to look at her.

"Come here," he ordered while sitting up, opening his arms for her.

Hermione did as she was told, scurrying towards his lap and straddling his sides with her legs as he pulled her closer to him.

Draco swept some of the stray curls away from her face before kissing her chin and shoulder.

He stared at her a little longer and she didn't dare to look away. She knew he didn't want her looking away from him.

He was intensely looking at her as he slowly held his hand up to point a finger on his own lips.

Hermione knew what he wanted as she obediently leaned down to kiss him slowly. Draco loved staring at her, but he loved kissing her above all. He moaned and stroke her legs as they kissed for what seemed like an eternity, inching her barely there silky nighties up until they reached her waist.

"Shit," Draco suddenly hissed as his arm twitched a bit. Hermione knew it was his dark mark burning again. It just meant he was being called for another duty… for another killing tirade.

"I have to go," he said while gently pushing her away.

"I don't want you to," Hermione shook her head while wrapping her arms around his neck. She knew it was pointless. Draco hated it when he was being ordered around like this. It was his job to tell her what to do and not the other way around.

But she wanted to test his limits for quite a long time and this was her opportunity to do so. She'd been doing well with her mission. It was time to take up the notch.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he replied firmly, albeit looking very hesitant to let her go.

"You just arrived. Why can't you just stay for once?" Hermione felt like a whining child, or maybe more like a wanton, itching whore. But she didn't care just as long as she could save a life or two.

"Princess, what did I say about ignoring the dark lord's requests?"

Hermione just pursed her lips, shaking her head in defiance as she held him even closer like a disobedient child.

Draco tried to push her away but she just wouldn't have any of it as she crashed her mouth into his in a desperate act to make him stay, sensually rubbing her hips into his obvious hard on all together.

If this was what she'd been tasked to do, if this was the only influence she could offer this damnable war then she was prepared to do anything.

"Hermione, stop it this instant. Just—" Draco's breath seemed to halt the very second she had unabashedly taken her nightgown off, throwing it to the floor in untamed abandon.

"Make me," she whispered huskily before slowly kneeling up, both her legs rooted at each of his sides as she shrugged her knickers off, leaving her to kneel in front of her gaping husband with her glorious body gregariously displayed in front of him. The light from the fire prickled along her skin as she offered her the sweetest smile he could ever commit to his memory.

Draco was at loss for words, looking intoxicated as his hands reflexively travelled to touch her legs to take a journey into her thighs like a sculptor admiring his masterpiece.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. You don't have to say yes if you don't want to. You don't have to do everything they want you to. You are your own person," she whispered tenderly, looking down at him as she stroked his hair with her hands. He was looking up at her like she was Aphrodite herself and he was nothing but a worshipper of her beauty.

_"Someday, you will see. Someday you will understand the road I have prepared for you. You will look in front of the mirror and smile at your beauty. Pureblood women will envy you because their men will practically kneel in front of you. You are the hope of this family, Hermione. Someday you will see and understand…" _

Lady Petrova was an incredibly insightful and intelligent woman; yet, Hermione hadn't really fully realised it until now.

When Draco kissed her stomach, she knew she had him. She let her fingers sank into his scalp, massaging them in the most enticing way possible, making him moan in unbounded pleasure.

She knew he was completely inebriated by it all and there was nothing he could do about it.

She bit her lower lip as she stared at him.

Men were funny creatures, she decided.

And his sweetest downfall might only be starting.

* * *

**A/N**

**Song for this chapter: "Samson" by Regina Spektor (beautiful, beautiful song)**

**Once again, thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm learning a lot from them. I love how some of you pointed out the details which I have forgotten to write. My mind can be a jumbled mess sometimes and I tend to forget some important scenes and thank you so much for reminding me. Reviews do make me grow as a writer and they help me sort things out especially when I'm writing such a dark fic, with all the complications being thrown here and there. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and tell me what you think, okay?**

**ENJOY and God bless!**

**Sending you my sweetest kiss, **

**Sue**


	34. A Midspring Bath

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

"**A Mid-spring Bath"**

Hermione's hands were trembling as she scrambled on her husband's files inside his study.

Draco was gone somewhere, and after a lot of wheedling and cajoling, she finally managed to gain his consent of letting her stay inside his study while he sorted his main concerns on the Second Wizarding War that had gotten quite extensive hitherto.

Hermione had her own spacey table on the corner beside her husband's own majestic desk. Draco's private office was filled with different variety of books and manuscripts, from classic to modern variations and Hermione was free to explore them.

Draco loved having her inside his study while working on his endless files. She was his 'leisure pursuit' as to what Hermione could likely think of.

Whenever he would get a little strained with his work, he would just curl his finger indicating for her to come and sit on his lap. It was his 'break time' whenever he would ask her to kiss him, or snog him or even shag him right then and there when things would get a little heated than intended.

This morning, she needed to initiate the shagging just to coax him to let her stay inside his study.

Whenever Draco would be called for his mission, Hermione's freedom in her scope of the mansion was limited in the corners of their bedroom and the library that extended with it. It was a good thing that Professor Snape knew how to overawe and threaten the death-eaters who were guarding her room, using his place as Draco's godfather to obtain the responsibility of guarding the mistress of the manor.

The war wasn't going very well for the Order. Yes, Hermione had somehow assuaged some attacks by secretly sabotaging a number of Draco's missions but this had only led him to be more cautious and vigilant of anything. She could still ask him some questions but his answers had always been calculated and reserved.

Plus, it appeared that the more Draco's missions failed, the more their position in the dark lord's graces took an inch lower and Hermione knew that she just couldn't let it happen this early when she was the closest hope of the Order at the moment.

It was why she had told Snape about her plan on disrupting the major missions of the other members of the circle first before interfering on Draco's, considering that he was the only link she had with the dark lord's plans. She knew she just couldn't have him fail over and over again as his colleagues, such as Montague and Zabini took a notch higher in their own missions.

She knew it was going to be difficult but she just couldn't concentrate on Draco's missions alone while letting the others accomplish their tasks without so much of a hurdle from the inside.

It was going to be easier said than done but she knew she had to use what little power she had left to help end this war and to stop the death-eater's wage of a violent campaign to completely overthrow the Ministry of Magic and vanquish muggleborns.

Draco had once accidentally mentioned to her during his tipsy state that he had kept a certain blueprint about the locations to where the attacks would proceed, including the person in charge to each mission. He had also mentioned something about conquering not just the entire wizarding world but crossing the barrier to the muggle world as well.

She knew she just had to do something. Her parents were still completely unaware of everything, being convinced that she was staying at Hogwarts to be an apprentice to the head of her house, Professor McGonagall, in a very important project. Little did they know that Hogwarts was actually a ruined mess now, with all its students being bended to Voldemort's will, even to the point of giving them detentions subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. Sometimes, she was even thankful Draco was keeping her like a Princess on a tower, safely tucked and locked away from all the dreadful things happening outside, but every so often, she would just feel really guilty and secretly cry in the corner.

She knew she just needed to cry first before washing her face, fixing her appearance and smiling like she was truly happy while welcoming her husband home.

Crying made her feel like she was at least sorry. Crying made her feel human. Crying made her feel less guilty.

Crying was keeping her sanity intact.

After an hour of scuttling in finding the blueprint, however, instead of crying, she began cursing; throwing some profanities and colourful languages she had often heard from his husband here and there.

She was just too frustrated that it came so sudden, out of duress. It was an act she had never really done and she was mortified of herself. Her face was flushed in shame as she covered her mouth with her shaky hands, even looking around, imagining what her Nanny Demelza would say of her now.

She was starting to think how damaging it really was to be with her husband. He was starting to corrupt her and this just needed to stop. She was raised delicately, like a flimsy little seraph. She was thought the value of graciousness and civility. And never in her whole life did she even picture herself to be in this kind of situation, lying, cursing and marrying herself to a murderer.

Come to think of it. He had taken her virginity before they were even married. Nanny Demelza had told her that the greatest gift she could ever give to her groom was her purity. She had never given him everything of her for years because she was holding on to that principle. She wanted to wear white for her wedding, to be by her father's side as he walked her by the aisle to take her to her waiting groom. She wanted it to be the happiest day of her life. She wanted to be the blushing bride on their first night, to be able to start a family with him and to have the world accept them. She just wanted a simple, normal and peaceful life; to be able to walk around knowing that her happiness wasn't hurting a single soul. She didn't really need all the jewels or treasures he offered her.

She just wanted to be happy.

But she never had any of that. Draco had taken her on the night she was afraid of him. He'd never hurt her but he wasn't that gentle either. Yes, he married her after, but it was more like a desperate, civil action to keep her and to mark her as a Malfoy in order to protect her, to cover up her status as a mudblood, to make them deem that her presence was valued because she was married to a pureblood now.

It was more like a necessity to lessen her poor standard.

Instead of wearing white, she was wrapped in a black cloak with a hood to hide her face. She was desperately clinging to Draco as he held her securely while being surrounded by the death-eaters they called their 'witnesses', with a frightened Minister sanctifying their vows in a trembling manner.

They were bonded for life, but Hermione knew it was just because he wanted to keep her as his own possession, to mark her as his own. Wasn't it supposed to be her happiest day? But how could she even be happy when she was too scared to do so? Did Nanny Demelza lie to her when she described how magical a wedding night should be for a woman? Or was it just because she fell in love with the wrong man?

And by that awareness, she started crying.

Her hands were shaking and she was making too much noise as she jostled over each file from his drawer like a mad addict needing to find her lost drug.

She was becoming hysterical as the blood pounded on her veins. She didn't know what she was doing anymore. She just knew she couldn't stop.

Draco leaving her alone in his own study was an opportunity he had never given before and she knew she just had to grab such an exceptional chance.

Yes, she was allowed to cry, maybe. She was allowed to curse even. _But she wasn't allowed to stop._ Too much was at stake here. The Order was counting on her.

She had no choice but she would make sure that the others would.

"He's given you too much liberty."

Hermione whipped around and with all the emotions whirling insanely inside her, she almost threw up as a wave of nausea hit her like lighting by the time she had seen the person beside the door.

Blaise Zabini was intently watching her on the very act of stealing her own husband's files.

The drawer gave a loud thud as she immediately pushed it closed, looking like the guiltiest thief in the world as she tried to fix her wretched state, smoothing down her summer dress and wiping her tears with the back of her trembling hands.

"W-What are you doing here, Zabini?" She managed to ask, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I came to talk to Draco," he answered in an eerily calm voice. "What are _you_ doing here?" He continued. His tone was lethal, like he just caught a scandal he could use to his own advantage.

"I-I was just… I was waiting for him," Hermione couldn't stop shaking. She was hyperventilating now that even the buttons of her blouse nearly opened themselves due to the pressure from her overcompensating lungs. She was trying to think of a way out to her obvious situation though she knew there was none. She was caught red-handed and she knew that Blaise was not stupid enough to believe any of the shit of a reason she was going to throw at him.

"And I suppose you were just _fixing_ his documents for him, like the good little wife that you are?" He told her, advancing like a viper as he looked her up and down.

"It's really none of your business," she uttered defiantly while unsteadily backing away with her arms crossed in a protective manner. His stare was making the hair on her nape stand. When her back hit Draco's table, she knew he wasn't going to let her go anywhere.

"You know, I wonder a lot about Draco's heedlessness towards his missions. Isn't it a bit… doubtful? You know, how those aurors know _exactly _the locations as to when and where the attacks would start?" He suddenly asked her harshly, immediately marching towards her and effectively trapping her body by placing both his hands at her sides at the edge of the table.

"I don't know, maybe it's a sign of the slow dissolution of your side. Any human with a soul knows that the maniac you all call lord is just nothing but a deception, a cheap raison d'être of a monster who calls himself immortal just because he's too scared to die!" Hermione spat scornfully at him, trying to disentangle herself from his trap. She was scared to death but her anger impeded her from backing out.

"So feisty," Blaise clicked his tongue while shaking his head in amusement, all the while playing with her delicately braided hair. "You're such a two-faced bitch, aren't you? You even managed to ensnare Draco on how I'm trying to go against him?"

"What are you talking about? It's not my fault that you're too jealous of my husband's position to the dark lord and—"

"Shut it!" Blaise raised his hand to slap her but stopped himself in midair, thinking twice of the consequences that might happen if he ever laid a finger on Draco's precious little mudblood.

"What are you waiting for? Can't do it? Too scared?" Hermione challenged him. She had no wand and she had nothing against Blaise' strength. But somehow, wearing Draco's ring on her finger and carrying his name made her feel powerful.

"You shut it if you really don't want me to lose my patience on you," Blaise growled while cupping her face harshly to make her look at him.

"You're a murderer! I don't even know how you sleep at night knowing just how many people you killed without any remorse! Your kind should just _burn in hell_!" Hermione screamed in disgust, turning her head harshly to get away from his firm hold.

"You're such bitch!" Blaise shouted back, still cupping her cheeks tightly. "Don't you know how much your influence on Draco had cost me? Huh? Don't you even realise how you almost get me killed? Of course you don't," he laughed bitterly. "All you really have to do is to look beautiful and—"

"I-I'm so sorry. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. But I really don't know what you're talking about. P-Please Blaise… let me go. You're hurting me. P-Please…" Hermione suddenly pleaded. This unexpected reaction shocked him. It was amazing just how much she could shift from almost kicking and strangling him to becoming the most fragile victim and wounded damsel in distress.

For a moment there, Blaise suddenly felt guilty of terrorising her. She just looked too frightened. Her eyes were gleaming with fear and childlike innocence and he couldn't help but be captivated of it all, on just how much she made him feel like the most evil villain in the world when she was the one who was caught red-handed at the first place.

It was insane on just how much her mere eyes could turn the tables this time. But she just looked too fearful and innocent that he almost melted.

Blaise had almost fallen to those round glassy honey-coloured eyes and quivering lips. Bloody fucking hell, he had even almost uttered the words 'I'm sorry' to her.

Until he saw the reason why…

"One more second you won't step away from my wife, you're fucking dead."

Blaise swiftly turned around to see Draco pointing his wand at him, aiming it to his head.

"Draco!" Hermione cried, pushing the staggered Blaise and scampering towards Draco's arms, looking like the most innocent girl in the world, as if her husband just saved her from the big bad wolf. As if she hadn't seen him enter the room a while ago…

Clever, clever girl.

Draco lovingly kissed her temple while rubbing her back as she clung into him with her tear-filled, doe like eyes, looking up at him like a wounded little girl asking him to kiss it all better.

The scene was almost theatrical. Blaise couldn't help but gape unbelievably at her. She was trembling in fear, looking so damn pure and angelic with her white empire waist flowy dress that stopped on her thighs, displaying those gorgeous legs as she tiptoed to rest her entire weight into her husband. Her chestnut coloured hair was gracefully braided at the side with some of the loose tendrils framing her delicate face. She was tucked on Draco's chest as he cradled her protectively into him.

It was bullshit, but bloody fucking hell, she looked _beautiful_.

She literally looked like an angel, even her tears looked celestial. Who on earth would not believe her? He even almost did.

It was a good thing that living with his longtime bitch of a girlfriend, Daphne, actually made him somehow impermeable to this fatal enticement.

He couldn't deny it. Hermione was a walking temptation, a walking trouble; even worse, as this girl naturally had a good heart.

Daphne would step on people that she knew were lower than her. Mistreatment and cruelty were evident in her. But Hermione had always been compassionate and selfless. She was caring and protective of the people who needed her help, the kind that could make you feel like the cruelest person on earth even if this time, it was her who was deceiving you. There was just no denying how smart and incredibly discerning she was as well. A bad bitch; these kinds were ten times more dangerous than Daphne's sort.

"Continue staring at my wife like that and you'll really get it, Blaise." Draco looked unmistakably furious now. Blaise cursed under his breath. He didn't even notice he was actually staring at her for way too long. It was over. His friend was dead, he just knew it.

"She's not what you think she is, Draco. She's going to run away from here and go back to _their side_, and when that time comes, we'll both be dead before we know it," Blaise warned him, albeit he knew it was futile as Draco was too lured into his wife's entrapment by now.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." Draco uttered through gritted teeth, looking like a feral wolf protecting his mate.

Blaise knew he just had to scurry out before his friend would lose it.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked her worriedly by gently cupping her face to make her look at him.

Hermione shook her head and clung into him. She didn't need to fake her distress. She was filled with raw emotions, mostly guilt, but more often than not it was just pure pain.

She honestly didn't know what she was doing.

She hated not to be in control. But she knew she _just had_ to do something.

And she was just too desperate.

Maybe she was seeking vengeance more than seeking justice itself, now. Sometimes, she just couldn't understand her actions, even.

Blaise was Draco's only true loyal friend, she knew; his best friend, even.

But Ginny was her best friend as well… and they took her away from her.

Would she be condemned for doing the same to her own husband? Would that make her a bad person? Would she be as good as a murderer, then? Or was it just a normal way to gather fairness in this sick, twisted world?

They said pardon could be the greatest revenge.

She had always, always believed in that. She wasn't the kind to carry grudges. When someone ask for her forgiveness, she could forgive them. She would listen and understand, to the point of even sacrificing her own happiness just to make them happy.

But she was human too. And she had a breaking point.

Everything needed to break when too much force was subjected to it.

_"You made me understand that loving yourself first could be the key so someone could love you back," Ginny told her. _

_"So then, I worked hard in making myself better. I tried to venture out on other people. I loved myself, I tried to focus on myself, tried to look beautiful not for anyone but for __me__. You were this rare, pretty girl they couldn't have and so I tried to be like you. I tried to gain more confidence for myself. I realised then that the time I stopped chasing Harry, was the time he started on noticing me. It's all because of you, Hermione. You're an inspiration to me, you know. You're my role model."_

Sweet, sweet Ginny…

Ginny had so much faith in her.

Ginny believed in her.

In the times when no one did, Ginny was there to believe in her. She was her best friend

But she wasn't even able to save her.

_"You're my best, best friend, Ginny. Thank you for everything," Hermione whispered, holding her friend tightly._

_"You know you always got by back, okay? I love you Mione," Ginny beamed at her as they broke their embrace._

_"I love you too, Gin. Thank you for always being here for me," Hermione nodded, scolding her own lips for suddenly trembling and her stupid eyes for unexpectedly watering. Why was she always an emotional wreck whenever she just got closer with Draco Malfoy even for a single second? She hated the guy. It was her brain's daily mantra to her heart for the past months._

_"Don't you dare let a single tear fall in front of me, or I'll smack you in the head even if I was the one who did your pretty hairstyle today! Now let's just go and enjoy alright? Later this night, you won't have me anymore as I'll be busy snogging Harry Potter."_

Ginny was just so happy that night, so young, so carefree and so filled with dreams. But she never even got to kiss Harry… the boy of her dreams.

She had so much ahead of her, now they would never even know. She suffered a way of death that nobody deserved to have.

Sometimes, when Hermione would think of that night, she would convince herself over and over again that the reason why she didn't see Ginny was because she was with Harry.

Sometimes, she would think that her friend was still alive somewhere.

Sometimes, she just wished she died with her.

"I warned you about him before, Draco! But you wouldn't listen!" Hermione cried, pounding into his chest like everything was his fault. She was becoming hysterical, she knew. But no one could really blame her.

"I know, I know, Princess. Sshh… stop crying now. This will not be left forgotten. I promise you. I'll make him pay for this," he whispered while kissing her hair.

It was that simple.

It was the law of retaliation.

She had lost her best friend, so he would lose his.

An eye for an eye.

They said it could leave both parties blind.

But would it be justifiable to let one see and enjoy while the other suffered and died?

Maybe she was wrong.

Maybe Nanny Demelza wouldn't approve of it.

But no one was faultless, most especially when you've been chewed up and spit out.

And by then, she cried harder. She needed it more to convince herself that she was still human.

* * *

It was the middle of spring and the crickets were beginning to start their courting songs, cradling their wing membranes for acoustical sails to the females they loved.

The moon was bright, like a spotlight being surrounded by little dancing lights of glitter ball as the stars sparkled around it. They held the simplest of truth, but the grandest of beauty.

The flowers were in full bloom tonight and the garden was beautiful, almost unreal, like they were nothing but two mortals being lost in the middle of the festival of mystic realms.

She wasn't looking at her steps anymore. How could she when everything around her was too magical to be ignored? The fireflies surrounded them, like hundreds of precious lights, reveling on the old, golden oil lamp Draco was holding.

Hermione bit her lower lip as she smiled at the faint neon flashes that surrounded them, slowly raising her hand in a wish that she could catch one, being captivated of it all, not even caring when she had lost her balance a little as she walked on the rock-strewn ground.

"Careful," Draco whispered while holding her closer, his hands securely holding her waist in a very protecting manner.

Earlier that night, as they ate their dinner on the veranda, Hermione had asked him to take her to the gardens seeing how beautiful the view was from there. The treillages that held the grandeurs of the blossoms were skillfully filled with the littlest of light bulbs, like strips being bonded to each post. They highlighted the garden flowers in their grandest, flourishing state.

The place was just too perfect to be ignored that she had to beg her husband to take her down the veranda and into the gardens just to witness the splendor of the place.

Draco was still a little concerned of her state seeing that she had cried into his arms for so long after Blaise was gone. He would have to give his friend a word or two. He had scared Hermione by his ignorance and mistrustful state. He needed to punish him as well, such things as making his wife upset was just unforgivable. But before everything else, he knew he needed to make her happy first.

He watched her intently while placing the oil lamp he was holding on top of the marble stoned balustrade. She looked like a real fairy as she wandered around the place.

"This is too beautiful, Draco," Hermione smiled up at him as she touched some of the blossoms along the lighted trellis. "You have the most beautiful garden in the world, even better than Mothe— Lady Petrova's…" she trailed off.

Draco stared at her, knowing just how much this kind of topic affected her. He knew he had to ignore it and make her forget. But he just had to ask. "You don't call her Mother anymore?"

Hermione smiled sadly as she shook her head. "She doesn't want me to," she whispered. Her lips were trembling, she was trying her hardest to smile, he knew. "Father told me I can still call him 'father' though." She looked up at him with so much hope in her eyes, like she was trying to convince herself of the little happiness allowed to her, that that one gesture of Mr. Pucey letting her call him her father still made the whole world brighter.

Right then, he knew, he just have to hold her.

Her head gave a loud thud as he swiftly pulled her shoulder so she could collide on his chest.

"Draco? Are you alright?" She asked him while snaking her arms around his waist, her voice a little muffled for being squished on his chest.

"She doesn't deserve you," he whispered while kissing the top of her head. "Maybe I don't deserve you as well, but at least I love you."

Hermione didn't say a thing but just held him even closer. Did she deserve his love and trust as well? Did they even deserve each other?

"I miss them sometimes; you know… my old family. I love my real parents, but I've only been with them for a very short time. Does that make me a bad person?"

"It's not your fault," he shook his head while kissing her temple, still not letting go of her.

"What about you, Draco?"

Silence.

"What about me?"

"Do you… miss your parents?" She whispered.

Draco didn't say anything again but just held her waist to guide her towards the lake. Hermione kept quiet as he did so, knowing better not to push him into opening a topic he didn't approve of.

He held her hand as they stood beside the lake, staring at its moving form, luminous and gently sparkling from the starry night's reflection.

They did nothing. They just stood there. But it wasn't uncomfortable. Hermione wished they could stay that way, let time freeze them, to make them statues forever while standing there and being monuments of two lovers beside the lake as time fades away.

"You used to hold me this way before," Hermione smiled softly, not looking at him but on the dimly lit beauty of the restful lake.

"I'd always hold on to you tighter because I was afraid our hands would slip out," Draco whispered back.

"Our hands were very sweaty back then," she looked pensive, but there was still a hint of a smile.

"I didn't mind. I was more concerned of you walking away from me," Draco whispered back, showing his rare, infrequent smile. He was always beautiful when he'd smile.

"Well, years later, here we are," Hermione sighed. "Still holding hands."

"Minus the sweaty hands," Draco harked back.

"Minus the sweaty hands," Hermione nodded.

They laughed quietly for a while, each remembering their blissful past as if it was only a day ago.

And then, they were quiet again.

The tall thin pine trees swayed gently with the breeze as they rose from a thicket of bushes dancing along the quiet darkness.

It was in times like this that Hermione realised the cost of a borrowed time. Remembering a pleasant memory would make you smile, but it would make you think and float on hopeless wishes as well.

She looked up at him and he wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he was frowning. Hermione could make form of his tightly pursed lips and eyebrows curving to meet in the middle. It was slightly dark, but the shadows outlined his worried expression.

When he noticed her stare, however, he started going back to his expressionless façade.

Hermione pretended she'd bought it, and he pretended he believe she did. But both had known of each other too much to even carry those lies, as silly as they sounded.

"Do you want to go for a swim?" He asked her after a long silence.

"But the water's too cold," she told him.

He leaned down to tuck a stray curl as he whispered huskily on her ear. "I'll keep you warm."

"Okay," she nodded while biting her lower lip gently. She could feel her skin tingle as the zephyr touched it. She suddenly felt excited, even her breathing started to take a leap.

She stood still as he slowly took her cloak off, letting it slide into the pebbly, slightly soaked ground. His fingertips across her skin were making her breathing unstable. He opened her buttons so painstakingly slow, it was near frustrating.

Hermione's toes curled as the last of her garment fell down, leaving her completely naked as her knickers slid off, softy descending down on her legs and into her delicate, little feet.

"I always knew I'll have this. It has always been you," he whispered as he stepped back to examine his masterpiece.

Hermione was trembling with the night's cold gentle wind, with excitement, with anticipation, with his stare, with wanting to be touched so badly… It was too much, she was having trouble breathing. Her long tresses were waving slightly with the wind, some of her locks tickling her breasts as she panted.

Draco slowly pointed his wand on his own clothing, and a second later, it all disappeared; leaving them both naked, not touching each other, but just standing there, drinking in each others' beauty.

Under the starry night, two lovers stood; unclothed, uncovered, exposed…

The trees surrounded the grounds of the lake, one could barely see through the shadows of their hollowed branches, sketched in crisscrosses to the moonlit sky.

_When little Draco had reached the third step, he then turned around and smiled widely at her…_

_Hermione looked up at him and wondered if he was a real seraph from the heavens. The sun was blinding behind him, but it gave him some ethereal, wraithlike glow; almost like there was a beautiful halo playing on his blond hair._

"_Come, Hermione…" He smiled, reaching out for her with his hand opened for her to take._

_Little Hermione would never ever forget the genuine smile and outstretched hand of that boy forever._

_She knew that it would be forever etched inside her heart the moment it had happened. When those colourful patterns from the sun created sweet kaleidoscope on his gleaming feature…_

_She beamed back as she slowly raised her hand to reach for him. When their hands touched and intertwined with each other, Hermione knew she'd do anything for him to never let go of her._

_She knew that every time she would raise her hand to reach up for him, he would always be there to pull her with him…_

"_You're all mine now," he told her softly. "You will always be."_

"Come, Hermione," Draco whispered as he held his hand out for her to take.

It was like a trance, how his fluid voice led her.

Their hands were enveloped together as he led her to take a dip in the waters.

"So _cold_," Hermione held her breath, clinging tighter into Draco as he guided her by the waist to go deeper into the waters. It was freezing! But it felt like electricity, beautifully touching and stinging her skin, making her feel like she just conquered freedom itself.

"Ssh… I got you. Hold on to me. You'll get use to it," he whispered, making her shiver even more. She just had to get more of his skin; his warmth. She brazenly flung her legs into his hips. She had almost jumped along the waters as she did so. Her legs were clinging around his waist as she felt his excitement.

"I want you too much," Draco groaned as he tasted her skin, latching and drinking in the droplets of water glinting down her chin and neck, letting his tongue travel lower until he reached her breasts.

Hermione was too lightheaded to think of anything as she moaned. She arched into him while throwing her head in abandon as her fingers dug deep into his soaked hair, massaging his scalp and urging him to carry on.

The stars were bright as she looked up.

Their bodies glistened under the moonlight, as if they were two lovers who just ran away, doing a forbidden ritual on a dark, hidden lake. The fireflies and stars were their candelabra. The lake was their cradle. The forest was their citadel. The sky was their fortress. The sweet, hidden pixies and mischievous fays seemed to laugh in furtive voices as they surrounded the place with their consent, together with the crickets' lullabies.

_When little Draco was finally home, his hand had all of a sudden moved to touch his lips. The feel of Hermione's soft ones still lingered there… seemingly tingling his senses and making his heart skip a beat._

_That was when Draco Malfoy knew, he just had his first kiss… with his first love._

"I've always known you'll be mine. I've always known from the start. And I'll kill anyone who would even dare lay a single finger on you…"

* * *

**Song for the chapter: "Arms of an Angel" by Sarah McLachlan**

* * *

**A/N: **

**I didn't sleep at all! It's already 6:56 am and I'm still up just to post this update! Usually, I'd just fall asleep and procrastinate again. BUT… the ever amazing ****DoberAnts26**** just made a trailer for "Almost Perfect, Almost Yours" and I know I just have to update! Yay! Thanks hun! :D **

**Please check it out! Please 'like' and 'comment' as well! It's at youtube, just type: **

_**Almost perfect,**__**almost yours**__**(Dramione fanfic trailer)**_

**And it'll take you there. I also have the link at my profile. :) WATCH IT PLEASE! IT'S A MUST! I DEMAND YOU! Hehe. Go like and comment, okay? :)**

**Also, I just have to share some of the photos sent to me by your fellow reviewer, ****llevenne. She said she got these from her tumblr dashboard and needed to send them to me because they remind her too much of some of the scenes in the story. So here they are. I want to share them to you as well:**

**(Please take out all the underscores/spaces to each link)**

**Hermione's first time with Draco: **http_:_/_bit_.ly_/_rW6egg

**Hermione: **http_:_/_bit_.ly_/_rZ1b3N

**D/Hr morning swim at the last chapter:** http_:_/_bit_.ly_/_sQUZez

**Little D/Hr:** http_:_/_bit_.ly_/_uPLG5R

**Thank you soooo much for everything! I honestly appreciate each review and the things you guys do for this story! I love you!**

**And also, thank you to reviewer sarahcharlotte for pointing out Blaise and Ginny's similarities "a best friend for a best friend" indeed! :D I love it! Haha! Hermione is really getting even, huh? **

**Kisses, Sue**


	35. La Nymphe et Ses Baisers

**Disclaimer:****I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**"La Nymphe et Ses Baiser****s****"**

He couldn't wait.

Draco couldn't wait for it to be over, just as he would wish it in every emblematic night of this never-ending violence.

He was standing there; apathetic, listless… as one of the mudbloods they caught that night cried and screamed while his own pack played with her, tossing the poor girl around as they boisterously laughed, pushed and pulled her against each other, like a _thing_, a lifeless toy to be played with.

The girl looked really young, maybe about four years younger than his Hermione. It disturbed him the most that she had the same brown curls as well as his Princess at home.

His Hermione would be eighteen on September this year, so the girl must only be fourteen.

She was seen running at the forest with some renegades of Hogwarts, joining these young kids organising a certain pirate radio programme called _Potterwatch_ in an attempt to boost the morale of people involved in the anti-Voldemort movement. The underground radio was as stupid as its name. They'd all be killed anyway. There was no use. Where was their precious Potter now? Alive and hiding while the others die to protect him.

It was Montague who caught the girl, selfishly, Draco might add. The bloke had tried to secretly take her with him without even sharing the news to the others.

Draco knew Montague somehow fancied the girl as they caught him nervously yanking her around to get her away from the atrocious pack. Draco couldn't really blame him. The girl would end up lifeless and shred into pieces if they'd ever get hold of her. Greyback and the others loved torturing their victims before finally ripping them apart.

Draco knew that Graham Montague had always liked girls who were years younger than he was. The sick bastard. It wasn't that he was old, of course. He was only months older than Draco. But he seemed to fancy little girls even as young as twelve.

This time, however, Draco seemed to notice that he really cared for this girl, somehow, as weird as it sounded as this was _Montague_.

But he was just standing beside Draco, trembling even as he watched the girl cry and screech for help as the death-eaters tossed her around like a ragged doll. Apparently, they've known each other back at school. Draco could just tell by the way they stared at each other.

Normally, Montague loved joining the fun. This time, on the other hand, he was at the corner, undeniably trembling and once in a while was even glancing at Draco as if praying and begging him to order his pack to stop everything.

Draco was the head of the group and he had complete authority to start and end a diatribe. He was at the inner circle of the elite force and even Greyback was placed under him.

"It's getting boring. Let's break the girl. Who wants to go first before I play and kill her?" Greyback roared as the fervent death-eaters raucously laugh, enjoying their little session of revelry.

"I'll go first," Augustus Rookwood, a former Unspeakable who participated in the break-in at the Department of Mysteries, declared while eagerly opening his Merovingian belt buckle. The lust in his face and voice was too marked. He looked like a frenzied lunatic.

"Come here, mudblood!" He growled while harshly pulling the girl as she continued on screaming and kicking in his arms.

Maybe it was her long, brown curls. Maybe it was her Hogwarts Gryffindor Uniform. Or the way the death-eater shouted 'mudblood' at her.

Or just the way she cried and pleaded.

But something in Draco clicked. The forest was too dark and he couldn't see her face well. All he could see was the girl's brown curls, covering her sweat and tear-covered face. It revolted him to no end that Hermione's image suddenly flashed inside his mind.

His Hermione was being pushed and hauled around.

His Hermione was covered in scrapes and wounds, crying and pleading for his help.

His Hermione was about to be raped and killed…

"Stop!" It was too much for him.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Rookwood frowned, looking strained and annoyed of the fact that he was being ordered to stop.

Draco didn't say anything as he snatched the whimpering girl away from the brutal death-eater's grip. She was too weak to even stand on her own and had viciously fallen into the ground when Draco let go of her.

Montague was still rooted on his spot, looking as if he wanted to run into her side to help her. But everyone knew their places and no one could ever do anything without their leader commanding it.

The girl was helplessly crawling into the ground now, gathering any strength that was left of her in an attempt to get away from her captors. Her face was still hidden from her brown tresses and it destroyed Draco on how she really looked like Hermione from this angle… crying, bloodied, and feebly crawling for her dear life.

"What's your name, girl?" Draco asked as he kneeled down, immediately brushing the girl's hair away from her face so he could properly look at her. He needed it to reassure himself that she wasn't Hermione. He sounded calm, but deep inside he was just screaming to get home to see that Hermione was there, tucked under his warm bed sheets, comfortable, alive and safe with not a single scrape on her pretty skin, not even a paper cut.

"N-Nesha, sir. Please let me go, sir, please," the girl whimpered, visibly shaking as she cried and pleaded for her life. The girl had light green irises while his Hermione at home had brown, honey-coloured ones. This fact somehow calmed him.

"You caught her, didn't you, Montague?" Draco asked as he slowly stood up, looking down at the weak and wounded girl on the ground.

Montague nodded at the side, now incredulously staring at their master as if he was trying to figure him out.

"Then you own her," Draco finally stated after a deafening silence.

"What the fuck? You can't do that, Malfoy!" Rookwood bawled. "Our pack's rule is to go halves in every capture! This is unfair, we—"

"I made that rule and now I'm making another. You can only do anything I say. If I want to be generous, I will be to those who had done me good. If I want to punish those who failed and dissatisfy me, then I will," Draco's voiced sliced around the group like a fatal threat, not failing on reminding them on what happened to Blaise and why he wasn't around to be in the march now. A whole night of torture of cruciatus curse could give you that.

"We are done for the night," Draco firmly said in finality. "You caught her, then she's yours, I owe you nothing now," he told Montague. The latter nodded in accord, knowing too well that Draco still remembered the night when he found Hermione's necklace. The thing had at least comforted the blond in the times when he thought she was gone. It had at least kept him from killing himself. And for that, there was this unspoken debt of gratitude between them ever since.

"Thank you, milord," Montague bowed at him before scampering to take the girl with him.

Amidst the endless complains of his bunch, Draco uninterestedly turned around to apparate home, but not after taking a peek at Montague, who had then wrapped the crying girl with his own cloak and delicately carried her to take with him.

He didn't know why he was feeling this way. A night of killing extravaganza never really affected him this much. He'd always hated it, yes. But it was just a job. Nothing personal, really.

But that girl just really had Hermione's hair. If their victims kept on having long, curly hair then it would be the end of his reputation as he would have the inkling that he would save them all anyway.

This was why in this game; he needed to be stronger than he let on. They said people do things with choices, but he digressed. People chose things to survive, so they didn't really have the choice to anything at the first place. It was just the matter of surviving. It was like sweetening a blow. But sooner or later, they'd all get flogged to the bones, anyway.

Draco Malfoy was a prideful man.

He never had a choice but he made sure he always was on top of each one.

If there was one thing his heartless father instilled in him, it was standing tall even with broken legs. Swallow what you see, because it's reality. People die every day, seeing them die in front of you won't make any difference. Initiating it won't do any disparity, either. It was just like a business transaction, you have to do what needed to be done or else you'll descend from the competition and lose everything.

As he bounded for the stairs inside the manor, he thought about the path he had taken, like every other man secretly did, perhaps. Only his was a little immense in a way. He couldn't blame anyone. Malfoys were superior beings. And even a king needed to undergo a blemish to his supremacy.

_He had suffered for months. It wasn't that easy but he did it. _

_His torture was beyond comprehending. The dark lord broke his bones every day, only to let them grow painfully again. Cuts and bruises had become a normal occurrence. His throat was tired of screaming in unbearable pain but he couldn't stop. _

_Once, his father visited him on his training. He was on the ground, face flat, bloodied and damaged. His breathing was becoming too laboured that time. The flooring was filled with his blood and he could taste its metallic flavour._

_But his father was there._

_He needed to breathe. He needed to survive. When he heard his father's voice as he entered the room, he couldn't help to have that enduring feeling of happiness. He was going to be saved! His father was going to talk to the dark lord to finally end his suffering. He was finally going away from here. He was finally going to see Hermione again. _

_His father was a harsh man, but surely, he loved him still, didn't he? Surely, he would save his son if he was dying. Surely…_

"_Is he keeping up, milord?" Lucius Malfoy drawled at the dark lord, slightly kicking his son's almost lifeless form, looking down at him like he was a property for slaughter._

"_I am impressed by the boy's resilience. But he is not there yet," the dark lord spoke in a bored tone, almost as if he was giving Lucius a favour. _

"_He can do it, milord! I have trained him for years and I know he will not fail you," Lucius told him proudly, now looking at his son as if urging him to man it all up and stand up for his pride. _

"_He is yet to prove that. But we will see," the dark lord insipidly replied as he slowly walked out of the room, waving the latter off as if his and his boy's presence were of less importance. _

"_Get yourself together, Draco." Lucius was livid as he crouched down to see his son's fluttered eyes. He was losing too much blood. Why couldn't his father see that? He was dying. He needed his father to help him. _

_Draco couldn't move any longer, every movement was agonizing. But he willed himself to move his hand so he could touch him. Every inch of progress felt like hurting stabs. But he did it. He had touched the tip of his father's cloak… only to be brutally kicked away._

"_When you fall, you do not touch anyone's cloak and beg for mercy. Remember that. The weak has no future in this world. Stand up and prove yourself worthy to even be called my son," Lucius spat at him before turning away for the door, leaving Draco in that cold dungeon, bleeding to death, shaking in too much pain… _

_There were times when he thought he was ready to give up. _

_He wasn't afraid to die, really. _

_Maybe it was better to die, even. The world hadn't been exactly good to him as they let out in the Daily Prophet. They said Draco Malfoy had it all. Being the only heir of the Malfoy riches, oh he was living such a charmed life. Lies. All lies. _

_Right then, he just wanted everything to go away. He just wanted to die._

_But he was just too afraid that he couldn't see her again if he did so. _

_He had a girl back home. She was waiting for him. He couldn't die yet. He promised her he would come back. _

_She kept him going. He accepted everything because he knew he could see that smile in time, again. In time. He just needed to be patient, to be stronger for the both of them. _

_He was trained to kill, and he embraced that truth. The very first time Voldemort took him in his killing march, he almost threw up. They were in the middle of the countryside, gathering all the mudbloods, torturing and killing them… eliminating the dirt of the society, the dark lord said. It was a good cause; a warped, twisted one, but it was needed. _

_For months, his mentality revolved around that actuality. He needed to help clean the social order by eradicating those abominations. They were disgusting creatures that needed to be eliminated. It was just the way of the world. _

_He was so sure. _

_He was damn sure of everything; until he went back and was told of another truth._

_For some people, it might have been a normal cloudy afternoon. _

_But it was earth-shattering for him. Voldemort's cruciatus cruse was even better than having to face the truth that day._

_"D-Draco?" Hermione stammered, stepping a little nearer to him. She looked… muggle. She was wearing a simple dress, was living in a muggle house, with her muggle parents. _

_He never wanted to go to the muggle world but he needed to see. He needed to hear it from her. But even then that he did, it just seemed too surreal still, like he was inside a nightmare. Or did he die during one of those training months he spent with the dark lord and this was what they called limbo? Or hell? _

_He didn't know. He didn't want to know._

_He stood up, but didn't look back at her. She was afraid to touch him, he knew. But he was too scared to touch her as well._

_"How true is this?" He suddenly asked her firmly, still looking on the floor as if he could destroy it by his mere stare, not that it wasn't possible now. He sounded cold; even he couldn't really verify his voice now. _

_"What do you mean __this__? This is my life, Draco. This is the real me," she answered, sounding accusatory and disappointed at the same time. He had promised her, after all, that he would love her no matter what. Did she really expect too much from him?_

_He had missed her so damn much. All that he really wanted to do was to be with her, to embrace her. But she wasn't what he thought she was. He didn't know better. _

_He was too confused that he thought his skull could break. He wanted to hurt __**anything**__, hurt himself, and hurt anyone. But he just couldn't hurt her, couldn't touch her, couldn't look at her… _

_Because she was a mudblood._

_"How fucking true is this?" He shouted. He knew the truth, but even the truth could be unbelievable. His once pale cheeks were now tainted with an angry flush. He was trembling, and sweat was forming from his forehead, almost as if he was trying to stop himself from cursing anything into oblivion._

_"T-This is __me__, Draco. This is my home. This is my mum," she told him softly while gently pulling her mother towards her. "She's a dentist, as well as my dad. He's not here yet but he will be once he was done with his appointments for the day. They are healers of teeth, a muggle profession. They are muggles and they love me. I'm a muggleborn, Draco. But I am still __me__. I'm still __Hermione__. I will always be," she told him, almost choking from the lump on her throat._

_His Hermione… His sweet, sweet Hermione._

_She was gone now, because she really was never his._

_He didn't say anything._

_He didn't do anything._

_He just stood there._

_His face was overwrought and tensed, almost as if he was a morphed stone._

_"You told me you'll never leave me," she whispered brokenly. She was crying now. Because she could see the disgusted expression on his face, he knew. "You __promised __me, Draco…"_

_He couldn't look at her straight in the eyes. He just couldn't._

_He didn't believe it. _

_All along, she was one of those persons he needed to kill._

_She was one of them._

_She was an abomination._

_All along, he was training to kill her. _

_He could see the mudbloods he watched during those killing march as they screamed and suffered before they died. He could see their blood mixed with the mud on the ground. He could hear the laughter of the death-eaters, reveling on their sweet conquest. One by one, they suffered. One by one, they died. _

_Because of their blood… _

_And he would need to kill them… to kill __**her**__. _

_By then, he threw up._

_Right in front of Adrian. Right in front of Hermione's own muggle mother. Right in front of __her__._

_The raw emotions of the moment ate and swallowed him like a viper. His stomach was too knotted; it needed to heave out the last of its contents. _

_His heart throbbed like hell, like there was a hole somewhere that he couldn't pinpoint; a phenomenon when each of his heartbeat caused the valves to squeezed him through. __**Everything **__was strangling him to death, like a thin wire was interweaving on his whole body's scopes, too tightly that each string was causing his skin to bleed. _

_He was shaking in pure, unadulterated pain. _

_It was too much. _

_And he couldn't cry. He'd never cry in front of anyone before. He didn't know how to. _

_But he knew he just needed to get out of there. _

_Hermione was helplessly crying into her mother's arms as Draco hastily wiped the side of his lips with the back of his hand. He had turned around and ran into the door, crashing a glass vase when he stumbled for a bit; its pieces slicing his palms while he struggled to stand and run gauchely outside, not bothering to take the broken bloodied pieces of the glass from his torn skin._

_She was crying when he left, just like she did when he left her on that pond when they were younger. _

_But it was different this time. Too different, he couldn't even figure out the amount of pain it left him._

_Some say, boys don't cry, they run. _

_But they're all wrong. _

_The truth was they run first before they cry._

_The truth was they hide first before they cry._

_The truth was, they cry; they just can't let others see it._

_Because right then, right in that moment, while he was running wildly in that quaint muggle village street, he was doing both. _

_In that abandoned lot, he screamed into the sky, cursing as he finally fell down into a tight ball, gripping his chest like he could tear it apart. _

_He felt like the world had conspired to make fun of him, to play with him like a puppet in a cheap circus show. _

_He was too conflicted of everything. All his life he had hated one race, but along that life he had fallen in love with one of them. _

_He was trained to kill the race that the very person he'd die of protecting belonged to. _

_Did that even make sense? Could that even be more incongruous than any unconventional paradoxes in this world?_

_Maybe he was in limbo then. At that time, he really wished he was. _

_It was better living in a lost warpath than a place where he was being played with, where there were no choices. _

"Princess?" Draco called as he gently opened the door to their bedroom. She was probably asleep now. He felt himself unconsciously smiling as he placed the bouquet of flowers on the simple rounded oak table just beside their bed. His wife adored flowers. He could give her more than that if she'd ask him. He could give her the world.

The room smelled of jasmine and roses… so warm and ethereal. The room smelled of his Hermione.

He stood there, watching at the small form of his wife, tucked under the huge blanket. The whole blanket covered her small frame this time. He frowned. Was she cold?

He waved his wand in the air, effectively warming the ambiance a little before shrugging off his clothing and uttering a quick cleaning spell on himself. Usually, he would never touch his wife before he had a long, thorough bath. A night of warfare made him feel the dirtiest. And she was too untainted and pure for his touch. He wasn't worthy of her at all.

But he just really needed her now. After what happened, all he really wanted to do was to be inside her to assure his own self that she was here, safe and sheltered in his arms.

The bed creaked a little as he bounded up, interlacing his arms to hold her sleeping form. It was only when he realised…

"Hermione?" He frowned, feeling his heart jump into his throat as he hastily pulled the large bulky blanket away. He'd wrenched the blanket too fast he could swear he had even strained a muscle. His breathing was starting to constrict as he stood up and saw the soft pillows made of European white goose with silk floral jacquard lying on the empty king-sized bed.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he stood up and whipped around; looking frantically even for her shadow but there was no one there.

Panic engulfed him like a mad hurricane as he thrashed around the room and into the library connected to it. All he could see was the image of Hermione being tossed around like Montague's little captive. Her screams were ringing into his ears like a resounding bell.

"Hermione!" He shouted outrageously as he hurriedly wore his bathrobe and ran towards the balcony, but she wasn't there as well. He could swear he could die any second as he went down to look for her in his own study, and still there was no Hermione.

"Luella! Gertrude!" He screamed, instantly summoning Hermione's maidservants who were then accompanied by some of the manor's naturally dwelling house elves.

"W-What is it, milord?" The older lady, Gertrude, asked as they all nervously bowed down. Nobody wanted the master of the manor to get angry. Ever.

"Where _the fuck_ is my wife?" He shouted heatedly, looking like he could almost tear out _anything_ into pieces. His blond hair was tousled in an impossible manner. He was trembling in too much anxiety, and his black velvety bathrobe was sticking into his sweat-covered skin.

"S-She was in her room when we served her dinner, milord," Gertrude explained, fretfully stepping away from his raving master.

Draco had no time to even reply as he ran back towards their bedroom. Even the functionality of his legs was failing him as he madly crawled for the stairs, shouting her name over and over again like a person afflicted with psychosis itself.

_He was kissing her like mad. It was the summer of 1995 and he had surprised his girlfriend yesterday by visiting her on her Aunt Genevieve's French manor. They only had a few months together and every time they kissed, it always wasn't enough. _

_Hermione's gramophone record was playing a French song at the background. It warmed the whole room; making everything to feel divine… more sexual. _

_Moi je m'en moque  
J'envoie valser les trucs en toc  
Les cages dorées  
Toi quand tu m'serres très fort  
C'est comme un trésor  
Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or_

_He was seated at one of the royal Victorian sofas of the place. Her creamy legs were sprawled on his lap as her head was reclined on the edge of the sofa like the goddess that she was. Everything in her was beautiful, even her little bare feet as her toes curled in excitement looked celestial to him. _

_He was inching her summer polka dotted dress higher than he intended to, and she was letting him. He would only stop if she would say so, and he was wishing so damn hard she wouldn't. _

_Her thighs felt like the softest of feathers, like oil on his hands… _

_Et d'envoyer ailleurs valser  
Les bagues et les coeurs en collier  
Car quand on s'aime très fort  
C'est comme un trésor  
Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or_

_He wanted to feel more. If only he could inch his hands higher and…_

"_Draco," Hermione moaned as she held his hand. Draco knew it was his cue to stop. It meant they'd gotten a little deeper than intended. But damn it all to the fiery pits of hell, he'd missed her too much. He just needed __**more**__. _

_Their little kissing session had gotten out of hand somehow and now, he was just rock hard. He wanted her too much that he even felt pathetic for shaking in thrill and excitement. _

"_Hermione…" he panted, licking his lower lip as his gaze fell directly into her dress-covered but obviously more ample bosom. They had grown fuller through the months they were away from each other, he'd noted. _

"_I think it's time to stop, Draco," Hermione shook her head as she stood up. "Aunt Genevieve might come back any minute now." Draco wanted to cry and wail in his pitiful state. She was his sweet madness; his wicked nymphet. _

"_Hermione… please. Can I just—just… take a peek?" He asked. "Please?" He didn't care if he was being too bold to her this time. He was just too desperate. _

_Hermione followed his gaze and looked down on her three opened buttons. She almost flinched with the realisation that her brassiere was already peeking out to him. How and when, she honestly couldn't remember through their frenzied snogging._

"_M-My Aunt Genevieve might come back and see us," she reasoned, frantically shaking her head as she fumbled to close the buttons on her chest. She was blushing too deeply now. Her soft curls were bouncing along with her head. Merlin, she was just too tempting. _

"_Please, Princess… Give me something I'll remember for the rest of the months I'm back at Hogwarts, will you? Please?" He pleaded. He was literally in pain now. He even sounded too desperate, it was pitiable. _

_Hermione bit her lips, seemingly trying to think things over. Draco's knees were bobbing up and down with too much anticipation. He would give just about anything to make her say yes. _

_He didn't know how it happened. _

_Maybe it was the beautiful setting. Maybe it was because her Aunt Genevieve was out for shopping. Or maybe it was the beautiful French song but…_

"_Okay," Hermione nodded nervously, shyly; "B-But just a peek."_

"_Are you serious?" He stuttered. How the hell did he suddenly become so lucky? _

_She just smiled shyly as she nodded, turning around to lift the gramophone pin only to start the song over. _

'_J'envoie Valser'; It was__ her favourite song._

"_It's my favourite song," she smiled diffidently at him, still biting those gorgeous lips in the process as she smoothed her skirt and twitched around nervously. _

"_I know," he smirked at her as he slowly reclined and relaxed his body into the sofa, waiting for her next move._

_What happened next, however, took his breath away._

_She started singing with the music._

"_J'en vois des qui se donnent, donnent  
Des bijoux dans le cou  
C'est beau mais quand même  
Ce n'sont que des cailloux"_

_He knew she was so nervous. It was obvious on the way she was looking down the floor. But this was, perhaps, the boldest move she'd ever made._

"_Des pierres qui vous roulent, roulent  
Et qui vous coulent sur les joues  
J'aime mieux que tu m'aimes  
Sans dépenser tes sous"_

_He was stunned to death. He couldn't look away. She was his little nymphet, and he __**worshipped**_ _**her**_**,** _**beyond words, beyond comprehension, beyond any conception.**_

_He had his mouth slightly opened as he breathe deeply, taking in the sight of his nymph as she slowly unbuttoned her dress and reached for the straps of her brassier at the back. His young but ripe breasts bobbed into view as she let her clothing fall down into her waist, just enough for him to see her whole torso. _

"_Moi je m'en moque  
J'envoie valser les trucs en toc  
Les cages dorées  
Toi quand tu m'serres très fort  
C'est comme un trésor  
Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or"_

_His eyes were filled with nothing but lust now. He wanted so much to grab her and take her right then and there. But he knew he couldn't. It was part of the temptation and the pull of enticement. It was going to take away any sanity and good sense left of him. And he would allow her to. He would give her anything. _

_She continued singing with the music as she stood there, bashfully smiling at him, her bare feet slightly jerking and twitching in apprehension. _

_He continued sitting and staring. He couldn't move. Her enchantment caught him like a helpless moth around an oil lamp. _

_He'd never seen anyone like her. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen his entire life. _

"_You're too beautiful," he whispered by the time she stopped singing, leaving the French singer to sing in the background._

_She giggled slightly; biting her lower lip in a very reticent manner as she looked down and gestured on pulling her dress up. But he stood up and stopped her. _

"_Let me," he breathed. He was damn sure that every blood from his system had overloaded his groin now. He wanted so much to touch her, to touch those beautiful globes in front of him. But for her, he would wait. For her, he wouldn't rush. In time, he would have her… all by himself. He'd make sure of that._

_His hands were slightly shaking as they slowly moved to tow her dress up to cover her torso, but not before kissing her shoulder first. "You're perfect. I love you so much. Thank you for that."_

"_I love you too, Draco," she whispered, smiling devotedly back at him. _

_That memory of her never left him by then. Sometimes he would stay up late at Hogwarts and summon that memory in him. It kept him alive during his endless brutal training. _

_**She**__ kept him alive._

_He would die without her. He wouldn't be able to make it._

"Hermione! Where are you?" He was too desperate now as he kicked on the door to their bedroom. He looked like a raging lunatic, he knew.

But losing Hermione… _it would kill him_. It would seriously damage him. It would destroy him beyond belief.

He was so close to summoning his death-eaters, so close to bargaining anything to the dark lord again just to have her back… until the door from their ensuite bathroom widely opened in a hurried rate.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly, running into him with nothing but her towel on. She appeared to have been in the tub all along and must have hurriedly went out when she heard him screaming, as evident on her soapy disposition.

He was speechless. He couldn't do anything but to desperately hold her tightly, not minding the slippery soap that smeared his own skin and bathrobe. He didn't know whether to laugh at his own stupidity for not even checking their ensuite bathroom, or cry in happiness that Hermione was actually here, or be alarmed at his impossible possessiveness to his wife.

He was crazy as shit.

It was true. She could be the reason of his uncalled insanity. And like before, she wasn't even aware of it.

"Fuck! Why didn't you answer when I called for you, dammit! You will fucking answer when I call for your bloody name! Do you hear me?" He shook her, hugged her again, kissed her shampoo-covered hair and hugged her again, almost constricting the confused girl.

"I-I fell asleep on the tub while having my evening bath, Draco. I didn't notice the time and I didn't hear you. I'm so sorry. Please don't be angry. It won't happen again," Hermione explained; sounding quite nervous as she tentatively snaked her arms around his waist in an attempt to calm him.

She was just too clueless and scared that it made him feel a bit guilty.

_But dammit!_ He just came from a brutal killing march with one of the victims they almost killed looking like her. They were in the middle of a war and the only place she could ever be safe was the manor. What did she expect him to feel or do?

"J-Just don't do it again," he whispered as he kissed her hair, smelling the sweetness of her shampoo.

"Yes, Draco. I'm so sorry," Hermione uttered worriedly as she held him closer, their skin glistening in soap now.

"You scared me. Don't scare me like that ever again." He sounded like a beseeching, scared child. But he couldn't help it. What had happened was too much for him. Sometimes, he just wanted to lock her up inside a safe volt so she couldn't go away, so she wouldn't get hurt.

With what had happened, he knew it would be difficult for him to go out without Hermione again. It would be more difficult even, to watch his pack kill mudbloods as they would only be reminding him of her.

It had always been difficult to persist on his mission. But with what had happened Draco didn't know what to even do anymore.

He was doomed, he knew.

As his actions could and only revolve with his nymph's kisses.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "J'envoie Valser" (Letting Go) by Zazie (I listened to this song over and over _and over _again while writing this chapter and it is just merveilleux! The language of love is always so sexy, yeah?) ;D**

**As you've read, it's also the song Hermione sang to Draco. The message of the song is all about a woman, telling his man how jewels and material things don't matter to her just as long as they love each other. It's about a woman trading anything for love, letting go of any worldly possessions for love. Jewels, rings and hearts in necklaces wouldn't matter for her just as long as they love each other, and that's worth as gold itself. **

**And oh, my chapter title means: ****"The Nymph and Her Kisses" (I just feel like it sounds better in French, haha)**

* * *

**A/N:**

**I've always wanted to write Draco's side at Chapter 23 ("He was Her World") even when I was writing that chapter but I know I needed to wait. There was one reviewer who asked me before of the reason why Draco threw up but I couldn't reply to her at that time because there are really more than what was written. I'm sorry for not answering your question a long time ago, hun. :) But since I've already written this out, here we go. :) It was really more than what Hermione had thought of. For Hermione, he threw up because he was disgusted of her. That broke her **_**big time**_**. But she really didn't know the experience he had undergone before coming back. **

**He was **_**tortured**_** for two months, was trained to kill **_**mudbloods**_** and had almost died in the process with only her smile to get him through. Imagine his feelings when he went back and knew that his engagement was already terminated and that the girl of his dreams was actually one of the people he needed to **_**kill**_**. **

**When you're in a situation of too much loss, sometimes all you have to do was to cry. But Draco was never trained to do just that. He was trained to be tough, and that is pretty much dangerous and painful, you know, keeping it all inside you. And so it was somehow an involuntary reflex in response to the intense pain and anxiety he had suffered at that moment when all realisation struck him like hell, resulting to this unsettling feeling in the stomach and he just needed to heave it all out. For me, it was important to write that. It shows Draco's vulnerability. I couldn't let him cry in that moment because his character shows his strength, pride and power in any way he can. Draco is such a complex character, he cries, yes, but he is in desperate need to show people how tough he is as well. At Rowling's Book six, he cried at the bathroom to hide his weakness. He was in desperate need of comfort but he'd do anything not to let people see that, even to the point of sharing it to a ghost (Moaning Myrtle) if he had to, but not to any living soul.**

**And once again, I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read and review this story! Please tell me what you think of this chapter! :D God bless all.**

**PS: Nesha! This chapter is also for you! :D As promised, you're in the story, yay! More to come! **

**Love, Sue**


	36. Be Stubborn as a Wildflower

**Disclaimer:****I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

"**Be Stubborn as a Wildflower"**

_"**Sin **__**from **__**thy lips**_**?**_**O trespass sweetly urged**__**!**__**Give me my sin again**__**!" **_

_**-W. Shakespeare**_

This night was important.

In fact, it was too crucial that Hermione couldn't help but shudder a little; quaking in apprehension, excitement, anticipation, expectancy… There were just too much to be mentioned.

Snape had told her that she couldn't blow this chance and she had promised she wouldn't.

_For the first time_ in months, Draco was finally taking her out. She couldn't believe it that she even cried when he told her about it.

They were attending a certain gathering prepared by Montague in his estate. A thanksgiving festivity intended for their pack's lead, Draco Malfoy. As to the reason of the sudden thanksgiving, Hermione didn't know, but she was just too ecstatic that, _finally_, she was going to see a different setting other than the Malfoy Manor.

Snape had also told her that this act of Draco finally allowing her to get out of the manor was one of the biggest steps he'd ever had in a long while. It was a good sign; an impending doom for his vulnerability. Not to mention the fact that she was finally going to listen in larger conversations.

It was a social merriment, Snape explained; one of those in which the Death-eaters considered as a respite from all their brutal invectives. Drinks and gaiety could make an impact to a keen observer; every word that could slip from the guests could make a huge amendment to their plans. She needed to fill her mind with all the information she could gather, but at the same time, she needed to distract her husband from knowing her real intentions as well.

Snape told her that the gathering would be so much like the pureblood parties she had attended before; only this one would revolve mainly with the illicit part of younger males, or those old pedophiles who thought of themselves worthy to be called young sirs. She would be meeting their ladies as well, but she had to be very careful in choosing whom to have a chat with. She could extract about twenty percent of useful facts from them; the rest would be pure, brutal tittle-tattles. And if she wasn't careful, these deadly gossips might be aimed at her.

The males would be very much into cards, dice, board games and skittles; gambling unimaginable estates, sometimes an unambiguous pay of large estates per annum, sometimes even gambling off their own ladies. Hermione was shocked in the mention of the latter, but Snape assured her that it was just the plain truth. It was a normal occurrence in the middle of the war where pureblood supremacy overtakes everyone and everything, where those with lower status, such as their mistresses who were mostly half-bloods and mudbloods were considered nothing more than possessions.

Snape assured her that she needed not to worry though, because she was officially a wife, so she was exempted to become a bidding price. Pureblood males loved taking with them their mistresses in such parties, but if they did ever brought a wife, the lady was meant to be respected above all. It was one of the reasons why Draco allowed her to come with these kinds of party at the first place. Snape explained she was not in danger to become a fortuitous bet any longer because she has the _ring_. Gambling in this kind of setting wasn't very safe, and Draco was already too well-informed to know all the danger zones before taking her with him.

To be brief, she didn't just need to play a loving, well-behaved wife, but also needed to mingle with some of the mistresses and a few pureblooded wives, if she was lucky, while maintaining a very keen disposition in every word that each of the participant in the residence was speaking. She needed to act as if she was one of them to accomplish her mission.

There were just too many things to get done!

She was in bated breath as she played with the luxurious soft, silky fabric of her red evening gown. She was seated in front of the huge vanity as she let her maidservants comb her hair. Normally, they'd style her hair in braids, or in lavish Grecian updos… but today, her tresses were completely left to flow temptingly with her gown's vibrant shade. They very much complimented her red gown as her loose curls waved naturally along her bare shoulders and back. It gave her a dominant, sexy look with her décolletage temptingly displayed in the front. It was quite a revealing outfit but the sophistication was still there as the gown flowed beautifully like waves of velvet on her legs.

Looking at herself in the mirror and towards her maidservants who hadn't uttered a word to her, she suddenly wished she was still at home, and it was her sweet Nanny Demelza who was combing her tresses.

She loved the tickly feel of Nanny Demelza's bobby pins on her hair. She missed her Nanny Demelza's hairbrush. She missed its soft bristles softly grinding her scalp, massaging her, easing her from any worries. She missed how her hair could be as stubborn as hell and how Nanny Demelza would stay and patiently fix them to make it all better.

She was her comfort. She was her home.

She missed the pull of her Nanny Demelza's hands to braid her hair, or the soft caresses in disentangling her knotted locks.

Nanny Demelza always said she was as stubborn as her hair. When she asked what it meant, the older lady just smiled, lifted her chin and tucked some of her loose curls behind her little ears.

She said she was as stubborn as a wild flower. But like a wild flower, she was delicate and beautiful.

She was not one of those garden flowers that were calculatedly seeded or planted, being tended along the most special soil of the garden, with their bred preserved to be the most beautiful from the start because they came from the best soil, the best patch, the best breed…

Nevertheless, when the harsh wind came and the painful thick droplets of rain had fallen, the beautiful petals of the well-tended flowers broke apart, as soft and as fragile as their kind were, they never survived the storm.

But there, just behind them, the wild flower bended to the wind, as if befriending it, as if kissing its glory and dominance.

When the wind stopped, the garden was nowhere to be found. All that remained was the little wildflower, shining brightly as the sun hit its features, filled with dewdrops shining like crystals.

The wildflower was even more beautiful than it was before

The dew drops signified its polished state, and her stubbornness saved her.

A small creak on the door took Hermione out from her musings. It was her husband, looking regal and grand, wearing his dinner suit in the most aristocratic manner. His dominance filled the room as Hermione's maidservants stopped whatever they were doing and bowed down at the lord of the manor, exiting the room in reverence of his presence.

Hermione looked up as her husband gently took the abandoned hairbrush on the vanity table before kissing her temple. Looking appreciatively at his wife's reflection in the mirror, he started to comb her hair.

Draco had always loved combing her hair. He loved doing it. Maybe he had this unending fetish of her long curly mane. He loved caressing them with his palms, letting the strands to gently glide along the space of his fingers.

When she caught his eyes through the reflection in the mirror, she smiled a bit. He gave a rare smile back. That was enough for her heart to skip a beat.

It was such a tender moment. Hermione only had to close her eyes to remember all over again the very first time it had started…

_It started out as a feeling…_

_Little Draco was watching at the corner, pursing his lips and tapping his costly shoe in impatient frustration. "How long is that really going to be?" His little voice squeaked in exasperation, looking more boorish than ever. Hermione could even trace his frown in interesting shapes, she had to giggle in amusement. _

"_Just a minute more, young Malfoy, and then, you can go play with Hermione, okay?" Nanny Demelza smiled at the little boy standing near the window, obviously looking very impatient and annoyed of the fact that Hermione's nursemaid was taking all his playing time with Hermione away from him. What's taking her so long with braiding her hair, anyw_a_y? It appeared like a boring job, even. Surely she could do that later?_

"_Mother said my hair should always be well-groomed. She said I look like a fury kneazle if I don't let Nanny Demelza fix it," Hermione giggled, twirling two little pink ribbons with her little fingers, ready to give them to her Nanny once the older lady would finish braiding. _

"_You don't look like a kneazle, my angel. Your mother just wants to tell you just how much it's very important for a pretty girl like you to have a well-groomed hair," Nanny Demelza smiled as Hermione giggled and handed one of the pink ribbons she was holding so her nursemaid could tie her left braided pigtail._

"_But I love kneazles. They are fluffy and cute," Hermione beamed. "I want to have one someday when I go to school. Draco wants to have a dragon but I think it's scary and will scare off all our future teachers so I told him we can both have kneazles together so they can go play together and the teachers won't get angry because they all look cute anyway, like me and Draco, so they'll allow us to play with them without getting angry," little Hermione said this too fast that she had to take a really long breath once she was done; still chuckling and swaying her little feet by the chair she was sitting on. Her toe shoes were embellished with white laces and light cherry-coloured trimmings._

"_Oh, isn't that so?" Nanny Demelza smiled fondly at the little girl, like she was just listening to the most interesting topic in the world. Draco just rolled his eyes and pursed his lips even more, making them look like a straight line now while crossing his arms together, telling the nursemaid, loud and clear that he was becoming very impatient. Hermione's right pigtail wasn't braided yet. He wanted to play with her now!_

_The nursemaid just smiled in amusement at the boy's resilience. "Do you want to try?"_

_Draco was shocked._

_How dare she?_

_He was a boy!_

_Boys _never_ braid hairs. What did the old lady thought of him? Wait till his father hears about this._

_This was just unforgivable. Grownups were really silly. _

_But Hermione's hair looked so… curly and wild and soft and just… __**soft**__._

_He was suddenly very curious._

"_Come on, dear. I'll teach you. It's pretty easy. By that, you can help me braid Hermione's hair so you two can play earlier next time. What do you say?" The nursemaid smiled fondly at the boy's suddenly blushing state._

_It was an acceptable offer. Plus, he got to feel Hermione's soft tresses as well. _

"_Come on, honey. Hold this," Nanny Demelza beamed while gently holding Hermione's right pigtail that wasn't braided yet. _

_Draco frowned but tentatively reached out for her long tresses. When he finally held them, however, he found himself smiling. They were as soft as they looked._

"_Just divide them in three different sections and tie them together. Here, let me show you," the nursemaid smiled while guiding little Draco's hands to cross the sections to make a gentle plait. The boy was very quiet and focused; Nanny Demelza couldn't help but be amused. When they only had an inch of unbraided hair, Hermione handed the pink ribbon and Nanny Demelza taught him how to tie it properly. _

_Hermione's right braid wasn't as perfect as her left, but little Draco was too proud with it as he gently touched and caressed her hair. He didn't say a word, still too proud to do so, Hermione supposed. But she would always treasure that moment… the day that Draco Malfoy first did her hair. It was still quite funny until now, but more often than not, it was still and will always be very sweet._

"Are you excited?" He gently asked her.

She nodded her accord and he was pleased by it.

He was gentle this time, so far from his alter ego last night. He'd always been so passionate of everything, especially when it comes to dominating her.

But last night, he was just too upset… too dangerous. Sometimes, she couldn't help but think that the Draco she had known before was a different person from her husband now.

He was too disconcerted that he had yelled and reprimanded her like a wayward child, shaking her like he was trying to dig up some sense in her, alternating from kissing and embracing her.

Hermione didn't know what to do. Normally, when he was upset, he would try to distance himself from her and do anything to calm down, usually break some expensive vases here and there. But that time, he had hauled her by the shoulders and dragged her towards the bathroom like it was the most vital thing to do in the world.

She hadn't even registered what was happening as he desperately tore his own bathrobe off of his body. His eyes were glistening with lust as he turned on the shower and harshly yanked her towel off, throwing it to the waterlogged tiled floor, leaving her completely naked under the deluge of hot water. In a blink second, the glass door of the shower was shut and steam had covered their drenched bodies, slightly obscuring their visions.

Hermione didn't know what to do that moment. He was rough as he kissed, sucked, bit, and nibbled her skin, pressing her body on the tiled walls with his own, grasping and squeezing her hips and breasts to the point of bruising them. She couldn't do anything but let him do what he wanted of her as she limped against the wall, screaming and whimpering, as if begging him for something she didn't even know.

Her throat stung with too much screaming. The sensations were too much, being added by the hot water and steam blurring her sight. Pain and pleasure… the sensations had overwhelmed her that she couldn't focus on one feeling to another. It had all came like a tempest, an uproar fogging her mind. She was backed against the wall as he pushed his length into her in a heady pace.

Her hair was sticking on her skin, soaked with water and sweat. She was gripping his shoulders, her nails scraping on his almost scalding skin as he continued to thrust into her, harder than he'd ever been. Their grunts and screams had unashamedly filled the shower room, competing against the spray of hot water. She could even swear their moans could be heard outside the room, but she was just too caught up of everything to even care. He took her too many times that night, quenching his insatiable need, even backing her against the shower wall, on the bathroom floor, on the wall…

They were completely exhausted when it was all over, lying naked on the wet bathroom floor, the glass door was tainted with moisture due to the condensation by increase heat transfer of the hot spray. They lay there, desperately holding each other, shaking and crying for what was worth as the shower continued to descend on them like heated rain.

"_You're all I have now, Hermione. Don't ever go and destroy me."_

Hermione had seen him in his most vulnerable state before, but nothing could ever top the tears he shed that night. She didn't know what to do but just hold him, cry with him… like nothing in this world mattered anymore, that she wasn't playing a spy for the Order, and he wasn't a Death eater, that they weren't set to kill each other. He was just her husband, and she his loving, devoted wife.

Never once did she question her decision because she knew she was doing the right thing. But that night… everything suddenly just hazed, like a huge fog had crawled in front of her chosen path. It was like choosing to exist without living or to live without existing. It was like choosing between jumping into the sharks or to stay inside a burning ship. It was like choosing to save your life by killing the one who holds it. Either way, you were doomed. Either way, you'd die.

"You're quiet today," Draco pondered as he ran his fingers on her long tresses, smelling them as he looked intensely back at her through the mirror.

His eyes were beautiful when he would stare at her that way. It was like having a sunny to stormy sky… It was a beautiful phenomenon. _He was beautiful_.

He had irises that were analogous to the change in the hues of the sky, from a little bit of blue when he was relaxed, to intense electric grey when disturbed or just filled with incomprehensible lust, like the look in his eyes last night.

Hermione blushed deeper than what she expected just by the mere convening of that memory as she stared at his reflection in the mirror, with those soft bangs covering his eyes a little.

She could trace the lines of his face, like tingling ripples of the lake under the midday sun. He was like the tintype of the little boy from long ago, blackened by lacquering, damaged by dusts, rusted by time…

"I'll wait for you at the foyer," he whispered before pressing his lips to her temple.

Hermione closed her eyes by the time the door closed slowly. Her hands were rested on her trembling heart and on the diamond of her necklace.

Secrets...

It was such a harmless word, so easy to pronounce, so lovely to whisper but too dangerous to act upon.

She had a lot of secrets before, like the time she had spilled her mother's imported jasmine essential oils, those ones that were freshly and specially gathered at night by the expert perfume makers of Egypt and Morocco as the odour of jasmine was more powerful after dark. Everything smelled of glorious jasmine blossoms as she danced across the empty room, sliding her little bare feet along the slippery floor and streaking some to her hair so that when she went to bed, her pillows smelled of them.

She had once stolen Adrian's broom to meet Draco on the back porch so they could run into their secret meadow filled with the pesky dandelions she loved and in which her mother hated so much. He would teach her how to fly even if she was a bit scared to do so.

She would secretly wake up too early in the morning during the Triwizard Tournament era at Hogwarts just to meet and kiss him behind the dusty shelves of the library, with the ribbons of light from the windowpane glowing in circles towards them.

He would whisper her some secrets to keep, like a poet of long ago speaking softly of poems into his very own muse.

Hermione had always found secrets to be exciting and delightful, not vindictive and deadly.

And now she was trapped with a secret that could actually cause the ruin of the very man she had first learned to whisper her first secret with.

He was waiting for her as she walked down the sophisticated English Tudor staircase, just like he always did when they were younger, when she would run as fast as she could so she could play with him.

This time however, each step closer towards him felt like a single pierce to her ribcage. Each step made her feel closer to her guilt. Each step was painful, shameful.

But each step was necessary for a stubborn wild flower to survive.

"_Hermione, my little angel; remember this always," Nanny Demelza whispered. "A woman's true beauty does not come from her sophisticated gowns, expensive diamonds, pretty hats or lovely shoes. Keep in mind that those are only tokens given to women to commend their beauty. It is necessary to appreciate beauty and grace, after all. True beauty doesn't even come from a woman's knowledge of instruments, music, dance, classic and modern languages or from the piles of books she has read. Those are important, but never truly indispensable. But a woman's true beauty is from the way she speaks for herself, the way she uses not just knowledge but wisdom in every decision she makes._

"_It is not always from the place or the root she comes from, not even the place she ends up. What matters is if in that place, she still stands tall and does not end up on the ground to helplessly die and wish she'd chosen a different path._

"_Be strong, my angel. Whatever you do, never give up. You're allowed to cry. Tears can be drained but remember that they're also just water. Take a sip on a random fountain and you will have them back. But the light in you, my sweet, that flaming zeal and eager desire that you have, it will take you far. Never give it up. Stand up to your principles. Love the people you want to love. Dream the dreams you dream. Own them if you must. But most importantly, never step on people along the way. Stand up for what you think is right._

"_A wild flower survives and endures, as stubborn as it may seem. Be like a wildflower, little Hermione. And you will see, even the wind will bow down at you."_

She stopped as she finally reached him, keeping her right hand on the handrail while still standing on the last two steps, making her looked a bit taller than him as she looked down.

She could see a hint of smile in his features as he looked up at her. He was looking up at her like she was an angel, like she was the most beautiful and purest creature to ever live. He was so unaware of everything.

Right in that moment, when she looked down into her husband's eyes, she had contemplated on running away, on telling him everything…

But she knew she couldn't, because she loved him more to ever allow him to continue to be a murderer.

When she finally accepted his hand, she knew there was no turning back anymore.

It was time.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Poison and Wine" by The Civil Wars **

**Thanks to your fellow reader, Lily, for recommending this song! This goes for both Draco and Hermione as I imagine them both singing this to each other. I love it too much that I just have to post the lyrics here because darrrnnn, it's so short but it just speaks of everything! Thanks Lily! **

**(The Civil Wars. John Paul White = Draco. Joy Williams = Hermione) **

_**Draco: You only know what I want you to****  
****Hermione: I know everything you don't want me to****  
****Draco: Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine****  
****Hermione: You think your dreams are the same as mine**_

_**Draco & Hermione:**_

_**Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****I always will**_

_**Hermione: I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back****  
****Draco: The less I give the more I get back****  
****Hermione: Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise****  
****Draco: I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you****  
**_

_**Draco and Hermione:  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will****  
****Oh I don't love you but I always will**_

_**I always will****  
****I always will****  
****I always will****  
****I always will****  
****I always will**_

* * *

**A/N**

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the delay! But as you all know, the holidays can pretty much take most of your time! :D Belated Happy Christmas and New Year everyone! I hope you all had a really good time with your friends, family and special someone!**

**I'm so happy to thank my new beta reader Miss Elizabeth12, who came out of nowhere like an angel and offered me to proofread this story. I didn't have a beta reader just because I was too lazy to find any. Haha! Mistakes had always been a problem of mine, and I'm always too lazy to recheck my spelling and grammar over and over again, hating the fact that no matter how I reread them, I still miss a lot of mistakes. So thank goodness for this lovely soul. :D So far, the first ten chapters are now officially edited. Currently, she's still working to check all of them, from start to finish and she's done with the 15****th**** chapter now. **

**Also, another lovely reader of mine, xKaishisMoonx, is now my beta reader for my "She's Just Not Into You". I love that story too much and I just know it needs a beta reader as well. ****I will post a notification once she's done rechecking the chapters and once I officially post them.**

**These two are seriously like angels who just came out of nowhere to help me out! Thank you! :)**

**And to all, thank you so much for EVERYTHING! Seriously! I find joy in all your reviews and the views you share for this story. And yes, I do take in mind everything. :D **

**God bless all! Kisses :)**

**Sue**


	37. Dawn Could Never Be Dusk

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

"**Dawn Could Never Be Dusk"**

A famous person once said, _"The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane." _

That famous person turned out to be a Roman Emperor.

Hermione wished she could have the power be one, to influence the fates, to dictate the laws… to escape, to _choose_.

Right then, however, as she walked around the place she didn't belong, the desire to flee and run wildly into the unknown was becoming unbearable, whilst she knew even a single drop of possibility was unseen.

She looked up at her husband with awe as they walked around the room. He was confidently talking with some of his colleagues while holding a glass of whiskey, his other hand never leaving her waist. He had such fine grace and amicability. It was amazing. But above all, his dominance was foreboding, as if every word from his lips was law. She realised it was necessary as every soul in the room pictured him as an important someone who was a member of their lord's inner circle.

The social gathering was beyond what she had expected. The sophistication was there, but it was a bit loud as well, mostly designed for young pureblood men's enjoyment. It was a mixture of class to strategically designed propositions and to just pure revelry. She had recognised a lot of faces, mostly from the Slytherin house. There were some scantily dressed girls who were serving the guests with wine, cheese and crackers. Spiced meats and a feast of fruits and bread were also presented on larger tables by the sides to cater the needs of the guests.

Different card games were provided on the gambling area, in which most of the men were very much into. They had their mistresses serving them, Hermione noticed. The girls in that area seemed to be sweeter and more flirtatious to their lovers, probably too afraid of the fact that they were great candidates to be gambled away.

Hermione realised that this wasn't just a party for those who wanted to have fun. It was also a business transaction. Mingling and enjoyment were present, but they weren't the priority of everyone. Each one had something each wanted. Each one wanted to gain something from someone. Each one was playing an enigmatic game to benefit. Just like her.

She was, indeed, in the ranks of the insane.

Her husband was now talking to Miles Bletchley, whom she remembered to be Adrian's classmate and who seemed to be too keen on staring at her décolletage every time Draco would look the other way and be diverted by his other colleagues. The man was giving her the creeps, honestly, especially that Adrian once told her to stay away from him and that on one occasion the bloke had even stolen her picture.

When she looked away, however, she was met by the resentful stares of none other than Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davies and Daphne Greengrass; her ex-classmates slash _ex-best friends_.

Pansy Parkinson was sipping on her wine, grimacing in disgust when she looked at Hermione who was then tightly tucked around Draco's protective arm. The girl was looking at her as if she was the dirtiest of all the shit in this world. Her eyes were oozing with implausible jealousy as they landed on Hermione's wedding ring. Hermione could swear she had literally looked green, or maybe it was just the light of the party, she couldn't tell with that entire scowl anymore.

Daphne Greengrass seemed to join her with the staring game, as if they were throwing invisible poisoned daggers to Hermione in order to slowly kill her. Blaise wasn't there and there were rumours floating around the room that he'd been hurt pretty badly which was why he needed to stay at his manor house at Italy to be healed by expert healers.

It was said that they even needed to hire curse breakers to alleviate the mental pain of the cruciatus curse that had been aimed at him. Apparently, his girlfriend knew that Hermione was the reason of it all. And apparently, Daphne blamed her to an impossible height. Hermione could swear that if given the chance, the blonde could really kill her right then and there. Blaise must have probably told her everything, Hermione knew she needed to be more cautious and to thread softly in that area now.

Tracey Davies was the calmer one among the three. She'd always been the least bitchy among the group, though that didn't mean she wasn't a bitch as well. Hermione could never forget the look of irresoluteness on her face during the time they pushed Ginny inside an abandoned shack in that one rebellious all girls night out. Tracey had always acted like her charlatan friends, doing anything just to be considered one of them, but during that night that she said she was sorry before running away, and the day Hermione had seen her mother in that transfigured boggart in which Draco and his friends illegally used to punish them, it was obvious that Tracey really wasn't all that she was showing. She was, somehow, cut out to be in the same page that Hermione was.

Ginny was long gone. But truly, when everything was said and done, maybe you just had to look back and think about everything all over again.

"Ah, Malfoy… How do you find the party tonight?"

Hermione's attention directly went into the possessor of the manor house, Graham Montague. She hadn't seen much of him, but had heard of his particular loyalty to Draco. She had heard from Snape that he was trying to take Blaise Zabini's position as Draco's best mate, and as regards to what happened to Blaise, the fates were very much starting to cooperate with him.

"Montague," Draco regarded him. "It's not bad. Well done," he continued while absentmindedly kissing Hermione's hair, squeezing his wife next to him like a precious cuddly toy.

Montague seemed to do the same with the diffident girl he was with. She had the same brown curls as Hermione did. It amused her. She guessed the girl was Montague's mistress, and a little too young to be one too. She could be his little sister, honestly, though that wouldn't appear right the way he was ogling at her.

Hermione tried to smile at the younger girl. When she smiled back shyly, Hermione couldn't help but remember Ginny, the little sister she never had. She suddenly felt very protective of the younger girl, and very angry towards Montague for taking advantage of her innocence, even parading her around with that skimpy dress.

"Higgs is putting up his villa at Tuscany," Montague mentioned as they moved towards the gambling table, dragging the timid girl with him.

Draco didn't say a thing but just sat down to watch the newly formed reckless gambling among his associates, stirring Hermione so she could sit on his lap. It was quite awkward, being watched by the public as she sat there with Draco's hands obviously touching every inch they could reach. But then again, everyone was doing it. Maybe it was an unvoiced _touch-your-girls-to-look-trendy_ code.

She could see Miles Bletchley's covetous eyes focusing on the trails of Draco's slender, mischievous hands on her body. It was disturbing, but Draco didn't seem to mind. He seemed proud, even. Most of the time, her husband was just a jerk.

"I'm placing up my rural château in Amboise," Bletchley announced smugly, still staring at Hermione. "Before I take on Higgs, however, I want another lady in my collection."

It was so obvious on how that statement was ludicrously aimed at Draco, who didn't say a thing but just played with Hermione's hand, particularly stroking her expensive, diamond ring. This act seemed to displease Bletchley, who then suddenly hissed in annoyance, being reminded of something he had shamefully forgotten. Hermione was unavailable, obviously, due to her status as a wife of a pureblood. He cursed a little, which resulted to a small, conceited smirk from a bored Draco Malfoy.

"I'll take you on for your mudblood, Montague," Bletchley finally offered instead, looking a bit pissed.

Montague's girl stiffened, looking very much panicked as she waited for her master's decision.

Hermione wanted to help her out of this situation, but she couldn't do anything other than to witness the show. Draco seemed unmindful of what was going on. He was twirling his wife's hair as if it was his only entertainment. Hermione wanted to slap his hand away and demand him to save the poor girl, but she knew very well that Draco would _never_ accept that act. He might lock her up in their room forever if she did so. This was a very rare opportunity. She needed to be in her best behaviour.

So instead, she waited in bated breath, looking at her husband as if pleading him to do something, _anything_, but he didn't.

Her little Ginny... Hermione wanted to cry for her. Hermione wanted to—

"No," Montague answered. Hermione was damn sure everyone heard her sigh in relief.

"Come again?" Bletchley asked, almost laughing. Surely, he had heard wrong. How did mudbloods suddenly become as costly as this?

"I'll put up my lake house at Chiddingfold. My mudblood is a new possession and she's not for sale… for now," Montague replied calmly. They were talking as if her race was not even considered to be in the human category. Hermione wanted to curse the bastard's balls off.

She stared at Draco, but he only seemed amused. His other hand was now possessively squeezing her knee. He was kissing her shoulder and rubbing her waist as he waited for the two to settle everything.

Fortunately, the game started without a curse or two as they hesitantly settled everything in a civil manner. Draco eventually joined while gambling away some of his estates. He was good at this or was just incredibly lucky, Hermione could tell, as he had won several possessions, not that he needed them, really. It was just all about pride and cordiality. Funny how some people could win and get something they never really needed.

A lot of girls had been gambled away, but fortunately, Montague stuck with his word and kept his girl. Hermione was just too relieved. The girl looked horrifyingly young, really. She looked like she was only fourteen or fifteen. She should be studying in Hogwarts now, worrying about an Arithmancy homework rather than the possibility of becoming a bidding price.

This war had definitely taken its toll on people; well, to those who belonged to the unaccepted rank, anyway.

The party was in full swing after quite a while and everyone seemed to get a little drunk. Some girls were having a strip tease in the corner. Hoard of laughter could be heard everywhere and glasses were broken here and there. Hermione could swear she'd seen a couple having sex at the corner but she didn't want to look again just to confirm it.

She was finally getting impatient. She was more than discouraged, actually. This didn't turn out to be what she was aiming for. She hadn't talked much with the mistresses. It seemed that they were deeming her to be of higher status than they were because she was legally a wife, thus isolating her from the group.

The pureblood women hated her more. They believed she was too full of herself for even marrying someone like Draco Malfoy, a pureblood supremacist, when she was nothing but just a mudblood.

The distaste from the girls had placed Hermione's hopes to the ground. The only group who wanted to talk to her was the warm-blooded male population, and she damn well knew her husband would just murder one if she ever dare to consider looking back at them.

Draco was busy talking to one of his regiments, but they weren't talking anything about the warfare. They were talking about some of the results of a Quidditch game held at Ireland by the Kenmare Kestrels against Vratsa Vultures, primarily on the amount of galleons lost and gained by each party in their parimutuel betting.

Hermione wasn't surprised of the amount sanctioned in by the negotiators. This was all about pureblood aristocracy. This was all about old money. Somehow, being raised by the Puceys, a very traditional pureblood family, she understood that.

She was actually more surprised of the fact that Quidditch was still alive in this ramshackle, dead world. She guessed it was really the pureblood world now. And mudbloods like her were just part of the commodities, mostly in the sex department. It was too degrading; she couldn't even bring herself to fully accept it.

She looked around and found Montague delicately kissing his young mistress at the sides. It was a very gentle kiss, so far from the activities of endless, brutal snogging in the room. He seemed really taken by her, kissing her the way Draco would kiss Hermione when she was all upset and scared.

The girl whispered something at Montague. He frowned a bit, but later on sighed and kissed her temple before letting her go. Hermione's eyes followed her trail until she disappeared in the second floor. She must have asked him to let her rest for the night, and it was quite amazing how she'd actually managed to make him say yes.

Hermione wanted to talk to her, but when she stepped a bit to follow, she was pulled by Draco's possessive arm. "Where d'ya think you're going?" He asked, slurring a little due to his tipsy state.

"I just want to—," her words were ceased when he suddenly plunged down to kiss her deeply. He smelled of alcohol, smoke and pines. His weight was a bit straining as he leaned in to kiss her more intensely.

"Draco, stop," she complained, trying to dodge his kisses, but he wouldn't have any of it as he attacked her neck with his brutal open-mouthed kisses. He was stroking her curves too sensually, if she wasn't aware of the people watching them, she could have really moaned. She mentally slapped herself for being so weak. "Please, Draco. People are starting to stare."

"You smell so fucking good," he drawled while threading his hands along her thick, wild curls, breathing her scent in the process. "And so sexy…"

"Not here, Draco, please." She could only whine in protest. He was starting to grope her breasts now. He was too drunk to care. For all she knew, he might have even been enjoying the stares from the crowd. But she wouldn't accept this. She wouldn't give up. She couldn't possibly sink lower than what she already was.

"Stop, Draco, please…"

"I just want to fuck you in that fucking wall and—"

"Stop treating me like a whore!" She suddenly shouted at him and this seemed to put him off guard. Even on his tipsy state, he seemed to realise what he'd done as he looked at her with a stunned expression.

"Am I your wife or just your slut?" She spat. She didn't know what has gotten into her but her lips were starting to tremble. There seemed to be a huge tension going on inside her paranasal sinuses and her eyes were starting to water. She felt pathetic but her heart just wouldn't stop hammering in an impossible speed. She was starting to cry and she didn't know why. Maybe insanity was really starting to creep in on her. Or maybe it was because of the realisation that she really was just his whore.

"Am I your wife, Draco?"

"Y-You are…"

"Then stop treating me like a whore."

"I'm sorry," Draco sounded like cold water had just been poured into him. He was a bit shocked as she was by her tears. "You're my wife… I'm sorry." He pulled her head into his chest and hugged her closely. He was still a bit tipsy and unstable, but he looked truly sorry. This made her cry even more. She was starting to be too emotional, it was really quite unbecoming.

They remained pressed with each other for a while, neither really had something to say. So she closed her eyes and listened to those drumbeats jumping through his dinner suit. It wasn't as loud as the music, but it was the only thing that was familiar to her.

She just wished everything would all go away.

Frankly, she was really tired of this game that no one was winning. It was like 'hide and seek' all over again, but no one was actually finding anyone, because everyone was hiding, cooped up inside the darkness of the little world they've created to make themselves believe that they were safe, even if in truth, there never was anything to hide from in the first place.

It was like sitting down on a pile of sand while staring at the horizon, thinking and believing so much that it was dawn. The weak sunlight was there, giving you that giddy feeling that finally, sunrise was coming. And you wondered why the sun was taking so long. And you wondered why that little weak sunlight was starting to disappear. And you wondered why it was suddenly darker.

Until finally, it would hit you, it was actually dusk, and you've forgotten because you were too busy. You were waiting for darkness instead of the light, but you've forgotten.

The sky looked the same during dawn and dusk, after all, like those sheets of parchments that looked the same, smelled the same. But they were never made to tell the same stories.

"Malfoy." Both looked around and saw Montague, standing rather nervously, pulling his necktie a little to lessen the evident tension in his voice.

"It has been a suitable gathering, Montague. You did well. But I think my wife and I should call it a night," Draco announced while gently pulling his wife's waist for their departure. He appeared to be slurring a bit, but he had the most control when he wanted to.

"Theodore Nott. He's here." This seemed to take Draco off guard as he stared back at his contingent. Hermione was sure her heart had suddenly done a somersault that would have probably hit her ribcage way too hard that she needed to splint it with her trembling hand.

_Theo? Theo is here?_

"What does he want?" Draco asked. His voice was suddenly filled with cruel disparagement. He was squeezing Hermione's waist harder than what he had intended, making her wince in the slight pain. She was sure it would leave a bruise somehow.

"He wants to talk to you."

"He refused to have anything to do with us before. He just disappeared out of nowhere and now he wants to talk to me?"

"There are rumours that he supported the Order," Montague nodded. "But he refuses it as well… says he's too self-governing to do such a gutless thing."

Draco just snorted in displeasure.

Montague shrugged. "It's Nott. He does anything he wants. Perhaps he's bored of being too silent, looking for some trouble or whatnot. Or maybe…" Montague's voice trailed off as he turned his head slightly to Hermione.

This simple act seemed to grate on Draco's temper. Hermione could swear she had heard a feral grumble on his throat. Everyone knew that Theo and Hermione had somehow been considered as an item ever since he had officially announced his courtship to her on that day he kissed her at the Great Hall.

Draco looked like he could actually kill someone now.

"Stay here," Draco demanded as he pushed her shoulder down to let her sit on a certain barstool.

"Where are you going?"

"Stay here."

"But Draco—"

"Stay."

Hermione knew the argument was over. She watched as her husband stormed off with Montague to eventually be swallowed by the crowd.

Her heart was pounding too much, it was becoming painful. It was too difficult to breathe, even. She felt like she was drowning in murky waters. She felt like she was being swallowed whole.

It was a confusing feeling…

_"__I'm battle scarred. But you must know I'm healing. You made me understand the things that have temporarily made me stupid and blind from everything. You saved my life, Theo. What made you think I don't want to kiss you? I might not do it now, but you must know that today doesn't constitute on anything in the future," she told him softly, still caressing the scars on his neck, the beautiful taints that she would be forever grateful for._

_"__Would you give us a chance then? When you come back?" He asked her softly._

_"__Yes."_

Theo…

He's here.

It had been so long since she last saw his face, his scar. But now that she remembered, she couldn't help but feel that distressing guilt again. She couldn't help but think that she actually missed him, but not enough, and that actuality made the guilt even more powerful.

Did he know then? Did he know the extent she had gone to have broken that promise? Would he hate her now? Would it even matter if he did? Wasn't it too late to even think so?

She was too conflicted, it was almost crazy.

She really didn't know why. She was becoming like the Lady of Shalott, foolishly staring at the reflection of the knight in the mirror, wishing he could save her when in fact she'd actually die if he ever did. Theo was her knight. But Draco was her tower, her curse, _her life_.

Theo could save her, but Draco was her addictive enchantment, a curse she could never break; not even for a kiss.

She was literally shaking as she hugged herself. She was becoming a masochistic madcap. She wanted the rain to make her ill. She wanted the knife so she could bleed. She wanted to cry underwater to cover her cold sadness. She wanted to hate in order to love. She wanted the saddest ballads because they turned out to be the most beautiful. She wanted to feel everything because she was both selfish and selfless.

She loved the way it damaged her, and it was shameful.

She needed his curse, and it was shameful.

She didn't need to be saved, and it was shameful.

In the middle of the crowded room, it seemed unlikely to think that she wasn't alone; just as it was unlikely to think that the dawn was the same as the dusk.

* * *

**A/N: **

**I miss Theo! I really do. I don't know why, haha. **

**Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and please tell me what you think. I have a lot of plans for the next chapters! Yay! **

**Also, I sketched a little something for my Dramione. I made it because my heart was filled with this story but I just couldn't find enough muses to get it to words, so I started to draw to get it back. I usually draw when my words just fail me. I posted it at my photobucket site. **

**I'm a little rusty now as I've never really drawn that much for quite a while. But there you go… my simple pencil and pen version of Draco and Hermione. **

**Here's the link:**

**(Please remove all underscores before doing so)**

**http:_/_i1203._photobucket._com_/albums_/_bb381/_BelleOfSummer/_Almost%_20_Perfect_%20_Almost_%20Yours_/_GEDC0039._jpg**

**Thanks guys for everything! Tell me what you think please? **

**Have a blessed day!**

**Love, Sue**

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "****Love the Way You Lie" Part 2 by Rihanna ft. Eminem**

**Thanks to your fellow reader, Amelia Raihan, for suggesting this song. I've always loved the Part One, but Part Two just says everything about my twisted Hermione and Draco! :D **

**I'll be posting the lyrics again because darnnn, you guys are just too good in finding the right music! And when I come to think about it, this song actually fits the **_**whole story**_** and not just a chapter of it, from the beautiful start to the destructive times. Thank you lovely Amelia! **

**(Rihanna- Hermione, Draco- Eminem)**

**HERMIONE:**

**On the first page of our story  
The future seemed so bright  
Then this thing turned out so evil  
I don't know why I'm still surprised  
Even angels have their wicked schemes  
And you take that to new extremes  
But you'll always be my hero  
Even though you've lost your mind**

**Just gonna stand there and watch me burn**  
**But that's alright because I like the way it hurts**  
**Just gonna stand there and hear me cry**  
**But that's alright because I love the way you lie**  
**I love the way you lie**  
**Ohhh, I love the way you lie**

**Now there's gravel in our voices**  
**Glass is shattered from the fight**  
**And this tug of war, you'll always win**  
**Even when I'm right**  
**'Cause you feed me fables from your head**  
**With violent words and empty threats**  
**And it's sick that all these battles**  
**Are what keeps me satisfied**

**Just gonna stand there and watch me burn**  
**But that's alright because I like the way it hurts**  
**Just gonna stand there and hear me cry**  
**But that's alright because I love the way you lie**  
**I love the way you lie**  
**Ohhh, I love the way you lie**

**So maybe I'm a masochist**  
**I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave**  
**Till the walls are going up**  
**In smoke with all our memories**

888

_**DRACO:**_

_**It's morning, you wake, a sunray hits your face  
Smeared makeup as we lay in the wake of destruction  
Hush baby, speak softly, tell me you're awfully sorry**__**  
That you pushed me into the coffee table last night  
So I can push you off me  
Try and touch me so I can scream at you not to touch me  
Run out the room and I'll follow you like a lost puppy  
**_

_**Baby, without you, I'm nothing, I'm so lost, hug me  
Then tell me how ugly I am, but that you'll always love me  
Then after that, shove me, in the aftermath of the  
Destructive path that we're on, two psychopaths but we  
Know that no matter how many knives we put in each other's backs  
That we'll have each other's backs, 'cause we're that lucky  
**_

_**Together, we move mountains, let's not make mountains out of molehills,**__**  
You hit me twice, yeah, but who's countin'?  
I may have hit you three times, I'm startin' to lose count  
But together, we'll live forever, we found the youth fountain  
Our love is crazy, we're nuts, but I refused counsellin'  
This house is too huge, if you move out I'll burn all two thousand  
Square feet of it to the ground, ain't shit you can do about it  
With you I'm in my fuckin' mind, without you, I'm out it  
**_

888

**HERMIONE: **

**Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts  
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
But that's alright because****  
I love the way you lie  
I love the way you lie  
I love the way you lie  
I love the way you lie  
I love the way you lie**


	38. Kiss It All Better

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

"**Kiss It All Better"**

Hermione was trying to even her own breathing. It was difficult to do so when the air was mixed with expensive cigars, alcohol, and classic musky scents from the people inside, for the most part, sex. It smelled of sex. It was an enriched multisensory experience, to be exact. She hated the fact that in some unreservedly uncharacteristic way, she actually found it compelling.

She guessed Draco had done a good job. She was now a bungled mess.

Her husband had never left her all night, except during the mere mention of Theo's name. It seemed to create a great impact on him.

She was angry all of a sudden.

What did Theo want, anyway? What was he thinking coming here at the first place? He was only endangering himself. He wasn't helping at all! Draco was an excellent legilimens and she knew that even if Theo had a fair talent in Occlumency, he still couldn't counter Draco's intense capacity when it comes to that area. Snape said he had exceeded even the stage of what was taught to him. Being Voldemort's right hand, it was expected of him. It takes a really dark wizard to acquire such ability. Hermione didn't want to know what it exactly meant.

She knew that Theo could be impulsive at times, but this bold move of coming in here was just plain stupid. If Draco finds out then it would seriously cause a huge glitch in their plans.

She cared a lot for Theo, she really did. But sometimes, he was just too daring to even know the boundary between bravery and foolhardiness. And here she thought the guy was a Slytherin.

She needed to talk to Snape so he could chastise him out of this.

She couldn't face Theo.

She couldn't tell him. She couldn't talk to him. She didn't want to. She didn't know why. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that she didn't know, because by that, just maybe, she could somehow feel less guilty than she already was.

She needed to talk to Professor Snape about this. She was sure he would agree with her. Yes… that was it; the Professor could convince him to go away, somehow. Snape could make him come back to the Order so he wouldn't be able to do some very reckless actions such as rescuing her and—

Why did she want Theo to go away so badly, anyway?

Yes, it was because she cared for him, but why was she so adamant in shooing him away like this?

Why didn't she want him to rescue her?

Why did she want Draco to take her now and get her back into their manor?

_Their_ manor… Since when did it become _their_ manor?

Didn't she hate the place? Didn't she want to get away from there?

She was losing her mind.

Maybe she was suffering from this thing called Stockholm syndrome, but she didn't know anymore.

She looked around, as if finding for an answer. But all she'd gotten was the spine-chilling stares from the men around the room.

She was suddenly aware that she was actually alone, like a lone sheep surrounded by a pack of wolves. And one of those famished wolves was Miles Bletchley, who was actually staring at her through his wineglass while reclining into a chaise longue. Hermione noticed he looked frustrated.

It was amazing just how much power Draco truly held in this place. Even when he wasn't around, it was still very clear on just how his men were afraid of anything that might upset him.

They couldn't approach her.

They couldn't touch her.

Because she was _Draco Malfoy's wife_.

Suddenly, she felt proud; daring, even.

She angrily glared back at Bletchley, letting him know through her stare that she was unafraid of him. The creep managed to wink at her. She almost got sick.

She looked away, shuddering a bit. If Draco saw that act, she was sure the wanker would be dead in no time. Perhaps she should tell her husband about it. He'd do anything for her, anyway, she would let him do to Bletchley what he did to Blaise Zabini and—

Wait. What the hell was she thinking? Could she even perceive the voice from her little, twisted mind? Or was it too intoxicated by the room's obvious poisoned mist to function and hear itself?

But she felt restless. That familiar tingling sensation at the back of her nape was still there. Like radar, her head shoot up to see that someone was _really_ staring at her… from the second floor.

It was Graham Montague's mistress.

The little girl was looking down at Hermione from the railings. Her wild, chocolate curls were flowing down like curtains, covering her cheeks. She had her elbows and stomach supporting her weight and her legs were playfully dangling beside the balusters of the railings, making her look like she was floating. She looked like a little bisque doll hanging on its dollhouse. She was terrifyingly beautiful, like a ghost or a fairy.

Hermione was too entranced to move for a while. Even if the girl already had the body of a young woman, her face looked _so_ _young_ and so innocent.

Hermione remembered that she was barely fifteen when she met Draco again after so many years. She'd never kissed anyone back then, not counting her childhood, 'puppy love' first kiss with Draco.

Draco had respected her so much during those times, waiting for her approval before doing anything serious, and she trusted him because of that. Sure, he had broken that trust when he took her even if she wasn't ready, but they were in the middle of the war, things have changed and she was at least seventeen, turning eighteen.

This girl looked like she was only thirteen or fourteen.

Hermione wondered what kind of things Montague had done to her. He was practically groping at her a while ago, touching her in the most intimate places a girl of her age shouldn't be touched in public, or even private for that matter.

Hermione stood up from the barstool she was currently sitting on, still locking her gaze to the little girl. Her face didn't show any emotion at all. If she wasn't moving, Hermione was sure she was really going to mistake her as a bisque doll decoration.

The girl slightly leaped from her current position, landing flimsily into the floor. She was still looking at Hermione. She kept staring at her while she started walking, her hand slithering along the wooden handrails.

She was going somewhere and it seemed that she wanted Hermione to follow her, and so she did.

Hermione ran towards the stairs and she was surprised on how some people moved away to make a path for her. Again, she was reminded of Draco's power and his ability to intimidate, with or without his presence.

When Hermione reached the second floor, the little girl was waiting for her, still walking delicately towards her destination. It seemed that she had known the place well. She guessed she had better freedom than Hermione had at the Malfoy Manor. Hermione was suddenly jealous.

They rounded a corner or two to reach a library. She reckoned it was the Montague Manor's main library. It was enormous, quaint and surprisingly neat. It was paradise.

Hermione smiled as she entered the massive space, reveling on the familiar smell of books. It was a pleasant reward after all the smoke and alcohol corrupted atmosphere she needed to endure. The little girl smiled back at her, quite diffidently. She offered her some of the books that were already on the table. Those were the little girl's favourites, Hermione noticed.

"You have such a beautiful library, uhmm…?"

"Nesha, my name is Nesha, Ms. Hermione. And this isn't my library, this is Graham's," the girl smiled shyly at her.

Hermione beamed. This was the first time she would ever get to talk to her and she felt giddy. Oh, how she missed Ginny so much.

"Graham says I'm addicted to books," the girl continued, smiling back timidly. She had such a sweet, tiny voice. It reminded Hermione on just how much innocence she had to lose because of the war, just like Ginny did.

"I love books as well," Hermione beamed at her as she sat down and opened the first book she could reach from the table. It was _The Standard Book of Spells, Year Four_ by Miranda Goshawk. So the girl must be in her fourth year at Hogwarts now if the war didn't exist.

"Graham lets me study, says it's important. He teaches me himself, sometimes," the girl told her, answering her thoughts.

"Nesha, about Montague… is he…?

"Is he what, Ms. Hermione?" The girl looked so naïve, so innocent, so pure. Hermione didn't want to know the answer to her suspicions.

"Is he treating you well?"

The girl all of a sudden blushed, and Hermione had a sinking feeling why.

"H-He's my master, but he's very good to me. He takes care of me very well. You see, I'm special to him, he said. This ball is for me. He said he needs to thank your husband." Nesha was swaying slightly, fiddling with her dress. "Graham said that's how special I am to him. H-He makes me do things… but he says it's just normal because he loves me, and I love him back. People do things when they love each other very much." Her cheeks had turned into crimson as if showered with tiny kisses now. The girl was seriously deluded to think that she was in love with her own captor, no doubt. What a poor misled soul. Montague was a heartless bastard.

"To thank my husband, you say? Why?"

"He spared my life."

"Come again?" Despite of her anger towards Nesha's subjugator, Hermione's curiosity was seriously piqued now. She needed to know more.

"Graham said it's maybe because I resemble you in some way. But he also said Malfoy doesn't really want to get his hands dirty if he could help it. Graham said he's good at everything, except on the killing part."

"W-What do you mean by that?"

"Well, for one thing, Malfoy organises everything. He is quick and powerful. Graham told me that in a hunt, he'd always capture as much. Graham wants to be as good as him. He's an excellent tracker, always the best of the best. He leads his men and it's expected of him. He is my master's master after all. But Graham said he refuses to do anything dirty if he could help it. He kills at times, but he is better at watching and commanding. Graham said he has a reason," Nesha stopped talking and scooted nearer so she could whisper at the older girl. "Draco Malfoy killed Dumbledore," she whispered grimly.

Hermione already knew this information, but it still gave her Goosebumps just by the mere mention of it.

"Graham said he once spent a summer at Malfoy's manor with Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle when they were very young, in their first year. Malfoy's mother told stories about the world of fay, the nobler race of all winged creatures of the mystical empire. They said, as boys, they hated it but they listened anyway. Malfoy's mother always said that Draco Malfoy was like a faerie, because just like them, he's a creature full of mischief and malice. As time went by, Graham and the others who heard the story teased him brutally about it. Until the time when Malfoy threatened to hex them all off if they wouldn't stop, so they did. Graham said Malfoy is pretty much nasty in his ways.

"But like a faerie, Graham said that Malfoy has weakness as well, though he wouldn't really tell me, so I read about it and found out about the fae's weakness. It is because of a broken heart. The euphemistically wee folk would often fall in love with mortals, those who are not their kind. They die of broken hearts. You can see it on their chests. When they die, the spot where the heart is placed turns black, as well as the veins that surround it, and they die with grief-stricken but devoted eyes, and then there are always tears. Tears can never be absent. And they just die, right there. Despite of their power and supremacy, they just die, just like that… for a mere mortal."

It sounded too heartbreaking, too tragic. Hermione didn't even know why Nesha was telling this to her, but her heart stung so much. She had trouble with her breathing. She felt so conflicted, so guilty. It was a dreadful feeling. She wanted it to go away.

She just wanted to see her husband now.

But the next words just completely stopped her dead in her tracks. "Graham said Malfoy is a selfish man. He'd do _anything_. So he killed Dumbledore to keep you. Graham said it was that simple, Dumbledore's life for yours."

"W-Wha—" Hermione couldn't finish even a word. She couldn't even see clearly. Everything in her hurt; like some invisible needles were prickling her skin. She was being stabbed like a voodoo doll, and it stung even to breathe. The air was becoming crystallised hale, and it hurt when it reached her lungs.

_He killed Dumbledore to keep you._

She'd been guilty enough without those words; now, how the hell was she ever going to sleep at night?

Did she start it all, then? Was she the reason for this war? Was she the reason why Nesha was being held prisoner, used and manipulated by Montague to lose her innocence? Was she the reason why people were killed every day while she was being pampered inside the Manor like a precious princess?

Was she the reason why Ginny died?

The creak on the door startled both of the girls. Hermione was sure she had almost toppled down while hastily turning around, making her head spin a little. The wine she'd taken a while ago didn't help with the current whirling emotions she was feeling at the moment.

"Hermione, come. Let's go back home," Draco sounded urgent as he opened his arms for her. He didn't look quite tipsy anymore. He always had control over his body whenever he wanted to, like learning by rote all the automatic switches inside. Hermione had always envied him for that ability. He looked _so_ emotionless, so detached… like a dead faerie.

"B-Bye, Nesha. It was so nice to meet you," Hermione tried to smile as she brought the girl into a warm embrace. Before she could let go, however, she whispered, "I need to talk to you soon."

"Hermione," Draco sounded impatient now, and she knew it was her cue to leave.

"I'm coming," Hermione replied, sounding apologetic as she went towards him and gave him her routine kiss. He kissed her back fiercely before bringing her to melt into his arms.

He kissed her temple and held on her hips tightly. Hermione locked her hands together around his waist as she closed her eyes, feeling the uncomfortable tightness of side-along apparition. She'd always hated being side-apparated, but the fact of feeling successful magic into her skin even for half a second made her sanity somewhat intact.

She'd been practising wandless spells whenever Draco would go away for an appointment, but it was still different. She'd always been clever with books and spells, but not as good as Draco when it comes to skills, especially on wandless magic. Sometimes, she would lie for hours inside the tub, wondering whether or not she could even get a hold of the familiar vine wood with a dragon heartstring core again.

As the image of their room entered her vision, she couldn't help but look up at her husband's vacant face.

How could he do that? Looking as if nothing really happened.

He just talked with Theo…

What did they talk about?

What was Theo planning? For sure, he wouldn't show himself so willingly if he wasn't planning on joining Draco's alliance.

Hermione knew for a fact that Theo had never been a Death-eater. He'd told her that he would never believe in that cause so there must be something in his mind to have confronted Draco like this.

And what of Nesha's opinion about Draco?

Hermione badly needed to talk to Snape right now. He was the only one who could truly make her understand everything.

She was too distracted that she didn't even notice her husband casting a nonverbal spell for her gown to disappear. She gasped as cool air slithered along her skin. The sudden coolness due to the absence of her clothing was only felt for a brief millisecond as his warm naked body had replaced them in an instant. His hands had snaked their entire way around her bare torso, kneading her breasts and assaulting her neck with vigorous open mouthed kisses.

"You're mine. No one else can change that. You're married and bonded to _me_. Everyone else can fuck it!" He growled while directly hauling and throwing her into the bed, making her gasp in surprise.

It was too sudden. His emotions could change like they had their own mechanical switches. Right now, she knew she would have had gotten used to it already, but he just surprised her every time. He was the most unpredictable person on earth.

Her bottom landed on the king-sized bed. She was almost being thrown out by the impact of the rebound. She had collided on the soft mattress but it was still a bit painful due to the force of Draco's thrust on her. She tried to stand up, modestly covering her very naked state. Her breasts were bouncing slightly as she squirmed; they still tingled due to his brutal grasping a second ago.

Hermione knew that her husband had always been passionate in everything; most especially in their sexual activities. This time, however, there was something different in him, like he was trying to prove something, like he was trying to provide an evidence to wipe any smear of uncertainties or, if it was possible, insecurities.

Before she could ask him what was wrong, however, both her hands were suddenly pinned above her head by his right hand while his left roughly groped her body. Her planned questions fled out of the room when he plunged down to kiss her, tugging on her lower lip with his teeth so she could open up for him to explore her mouth.

Suddenly, she found herself dizzyingly kissing him back, running her tongue along his in an erotic jazz. It started with slightly slower uneven strokes, until it had gotten stronger, more frantic and urgent. It was a messy, lopsided kiss; too frenzied that it left her whimpering. They kissed for what seemed like eternity and she was left panting due to the flighty sensations and to the lack of oxygen when they broke apart.

She tried to stifle a moan as his mouth nibbled their way through her earlobe and neck. Her response was too automatic as she tilted her head to the side to give him easy access. She gasped when he abruptly plunged down and swirled his tongue around the rosy bud of her breast, gently blowing on it before finally taking it full on his mouth. Her reaction was instantaneous as she moaned and arched her back into him while he sucked her like a nursing infant.

She could feel his hardness against her thigh and she knew he was very aroused. The bed creaked as he was overcome by his possessive, animalistic nature. He slid one arm under her waist to pull her closer to him, desperately needing the heated skin contact; his other hand was still pinning her arms above her head, dominantly reminding her of her docile place. Her torso was arched into him, her arms still painfully glued on the bed above her head as he feed on her skin with wild intensity, noisily lapping on her swollen breasts.

The sophisticated gilded ceiling whirled in her vision as her eyes rolled in the pleasure of his touch. The bed dipped even more as his hand ran along her slit, his thumb stroking the tip of her womanhood as he plunged two fingers inside. She hissed at the feeling of being stretched out, wishing so hard it was his cock that was inside her instead. Her body was rocking in tune with his hand as he continued his frenzied ministrations. He knew the right places to stroke, the right amount of pressure to draw out. He knew exactly how to drive her crazy.

His mouth hungrily wandered on her belly, twisting his finger inside of her opening, making her cry. When his head slid further downwards, Hermione shut her eyes tightly. Strong sensations reverberated into her gut and she bit her lower lip to stop herself from shamelessly screaming harder. She was shaking in too much anticipation as he kissed her thigh softly.

Then, without warning, Draco had violently pushed her legs further apart and placed them over his shoulders while directly pressing his mouth around her core. Both his hands secured her hips as he delved in, drinking her essence in, burying his face into her mound, satiating his need like an addict needing his drug.

He had done this to her too many times already, but bloody Merlin knew she would _never ever_ have enough of it.

Hermione screamed in pleasure, almost tearing the mattress with her fingernails as she held tighter into it for dear life, throwing her head back in what seemed like a mad abandonment. Her muscles clamped, her hips arched further into him as she came, screaming her husband's name in the process. Waves of pleasure dominated her every nerve, leaving her uncontrollably shaking in shreds, feverish and delirious as sweat dripped over her exhausted body.

_Fuck_ it all. Right in this moment, she'd do _anything_ for him. She couldn't even think straight. He could ask her to jump into a cliff and she'd willingly do it. She'd regret thinking about this later, of course, but in this moment, she was just nothing without him.

"No one else can ever do that to you, Hermione. No one else can ever make you feel this way. Remember that," Draco panted as he moved up to kiss her, letting her taste her own essence. "You belong to me and they can't do a shit about it. I'll fuck you everyday to remind you."

Hermione barely heard him as she struggled to calm her booming heart. She couldn't say anything yet, she needed to breathe. She just nodded; not knowing why, really.

The bed bobbled slightly as Draco slowly got up, still panting with lust and irredeemable anger as he walked towards one of the cupboards to retrieve something.

Still unfeasibly delirious and lightheaded, she turned her head sideways to stare at him.

He was still naked and impossibly hard and his features were schooled into utmost restraint. His jaw was tightened, seemingly trying to fight for control. Hermione knew that her husband was never patient, and in normal nights, he would have had already slammed himself into her to satiate his needs. But it seemed that possessing the vial on his hand was more crucial at the moment.

"Drink," he demanded. His voice was harsh as he leaned into the headboard of their bed, scooping her with him.

"W-What is it?" She knew he would never do anything to hurt her. But Draco Malfoy had the most complicated thoughts in the world. No one really knew what was going on inside his dangerous mind.

"Don't you trust me?" He whispered into her ear softly, biting her earlobe in the process.

"I-I do trust you, but—"

"Then drink it."

"Tell me what it is first."

"_Drink_ it."

"Why?"

"If you don't drink this, I would have to teach you a lesson. And you know you don't want me to do that, Princess," he whispered menacingly. Hermione knew he was talking about killing more people again. He had used that threat on her over and over again. But would he, really? Nesha's words came whirling inside her head. Hermione knew that he was a murderer. He couldn't be inside Voldemort's inner circle if he wasn't. But was it really true that he would avoid the act whenever he could help it?

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered. She hated how weak she sounded, hated everything that he ever did to her. He'd broken her soul, her willpower, her resolve and she hated it. What made her even angrier was the fact that she could hate the act, but never him.

Draco softly tugged on her hair as he lifted the vial into her swollen lips. "No, I won't hurt you. I've never hurt you, haven't I?" He whispered before pinching her nose, enough for her to lose air so she would open her mouth. When she did, he shoved the vial into her parted lips and pushed the contents inside by pressing his own mouth into hers to thrust the liquid into her throat.

"That's my good girl," he purred, while gently rubbing her back as she coughed a bit. "Lay back for me, my Princess," he whispered while gently pushing her to lie on the bed. She lay down obediently, and he grabbed her hips to enter her. He hissed as he was fully sheathed within her. His face was contorted with pain and pleasure. Her legs were now intertwined around his hips as he moved inside her, angling his thrusts so he could hit her in the places that made her scream harder.

He slammed into her, lost in his own pleasure. The light against his skin glistened in his sweat-covered muscles.

He was a work of art. He was that beautiful.

She arched her back and bucked her hips to get more of him. She could feel her walls tightening and she screamed in ecstasy, pulling him with her. He cursed loudly, almost losing himself but wanting to prolong his pleasurable agony. The bed wobbled violently as he drove into her, almost crushing her and almost smashing the bed with their collision as he screamed her name, soaking her womb with his sperm. For a moment there, Hermione thought she was going to pass out.

He stayed inside her for a while, catching his breath as he kissed her sweat-covered forehead before disentangling himself and pulling her body next to him. They lay there, panting and out of breath…

He kissed her temple gently, as if telling her that everything was going to be okay; as if kissing it all better, with a promise and love so great, she almost wished everything was real.

Almost.

And then, placing a hand to her belly, he whispered the words. "That was a fertility potion. You're mine and right now, my son is growing inside you."

* * *

**Songs for this chapter: (Thanks to reader Lily for the suggestions of songs!)**

**Hermione's song for Draco: "Skinny Love" by Birdy**

"_I told you to be patient, I told you to be fine, I told you to be balanced, I told you to be kind_

___In the morning I'll be with you, but it will be a different kind_

___I'll be holding all the tickets. And you'll be owning all the fines"_

**Draco's song for Hermione: "Behind Blue Eyes" by Limp Bizkit**

"_No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man, to be the sad man_

_Behind blue eyes, __and no one knows __what it's like to be hated; to be faded to telling only lie_

_But my dreams they aren't as empty as my conscious seems to be_

_I have hours, only lonely… My love is vengeance that's never free"_

* * *

**A/N**

**So here we are after… what? Two weeks? Urgh, I hate myself! I'm so sorry! I have no proper excuse but laziness and procrastination. And I'm so ashamed to confess that I've only been able to update because of a sprained ankle. Lol. I went out swimming with my friends and I'm really usually hyper at times, especially when I'm out in the beach, so I got injured, but I'm fine now. I needed to stay at home, however, to rest, and that's when I'm finally able to update again. Maybe it's a sign that I needed to take time to sit and update, or one of my readers cursed me or something, (lol, no, I'm not giving you an idea! Haha). **

**But anyway, here it is! I'll try my hardest to be good to all of you and update faster. I feel quite guilty when I don't update. Mind you, I'm really still very much obsessed with this story. It keeps on whirling inside my mind **_**everywhere**_** I go, it's just that sometimes I can't properly place them in words and the ideas are all jumbled up. **

**But anyway, thank you so much for your lovely reviews. You just keep me going and going and thank you! Oh, and thanks for all the song suggestions! You guys are amazing. Love you all. Have a beautiful, blessed day!**

**Sue**


	39. Spinning Roulette

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

"**Spinning Roulette****"**

Hermione's heart descended into a brutal stop.

Next thing she knew, a loud slap reverberated around the room and her hand stung.

She was staring at her husband in pure shock. His left cheek was devastatingly red and he was breathing heavily. He lifted his hand into the side of his lips to wipe out the little amount of blood that had fallen down, but he looked emotionless, nothing.

Hermione was damn sure the slap was extremely painful judging from the blood on his lips and her aching hand, but he didn't show any of it.

He had no emotions to share, after all. He wasn't human.

"You're a monster!" Hermione burst out, clutching the sheets of linen to cover her naked body. She was shaking with rage. She couldn't control the tears that were heavily flowing from her eyes. She cried harder when she realised that she _really_ couldn't control anything at all… because Draco already did.

She _hated_ everything that he did to her, but this was just the farthest he'd ever done to ruin her.

"How can you do this to me? You're a monster! How can you _ever_ bring an innocent child into this world at this time? We are in the middle of the _war_, Draco! And I'm—oh merlin, I'm only seventeen! H-How can you do this to me? You're insane!" She cried harder, desperately shaking him as if to get some sense out of him. But he was too hard, too rigid, like a stone. He barely even moved.

"We're married. We'll have a child eventually," he reasoned out tightly, looking like what he did wasn't a big deal, because it was going to happen anyway. Remorse or guilt could never be traced in his face. He just had no emotions at all. "And it's your child. You can't get rid of it. I know you won't."

Suddenly, everything just went down with Hermione. Anger had consummated her every being and she just had to _hurt_ him, for doing what he just did, for _everything_. She screamed as she lunged into him, hitting and kicking him like her life depended on it.

"You bastard! You ruined everything! You ruined my life!" She screamed, sending him harsh slaps. His once pale chest, shoulders and face were now red with her brutal strikes and scratches from her nails, but he wasn't stopping her nor was he showing any emotion.

He was just _letting her hurt him_ while looking terribly unaffected at the same time. It irked her to no end.

She felt like running away from there. He just looked so _dead_. He didn't care one bit.

Suddenly, it all just went out spiraling like a cyclone… everything he did to her, every injustice, unfairness and revulsion. She screamed and shook him hard.

"I loved you with every fiber of my being! You were my world, Draco. You've been my hero since I was nine years old. You promised me everything and I believed in you. I trusted you with my life! You said you'd love me no matter what. You _promised_ never to hurt me. But you still did! Of all people, I thought you could be the one who'd stay with me when I found out the truth about my blood, but what did you do? You were the very first to turn away from me!

"_You were never there_ when I struggled to find my real parents, _you were never there_ when Lady Petrova, the person I've called my mother my entire life, imprisoned me in my room so she could keep the family's name clean from my dirty blood. She called me an ungrateful slut and treated me like rubbish, but I held on to your memory, that someday you'd come back home and tell me that it's okay, and that you'd still love me anyway. _Every night, _I waited for you, Draco. _Every night_, I waited for you to come and save me like you promised. I would talk myself to sleep, _wishing so damn hard_ that you'd finally come home so you could hold me into your arms and tell me that everything's going to be okay.

"But when you came back, all you did was to come into my muggle home not to comfort me but to actually reassure the truth, to reassure if I'm a _mudblood_ or not, to protect your _pureblood name_! You looked at me as if I was an abomination! I wanted so badly to run into your arms, you know, to embrace you. Because I missed you so much but I couldn't do it because you made me feel like the dirtiest person on earth. You made me feel like I could never touch you again because you were disgusted of me," Hermione couldn't breathe anymore. Everything just hurt; she could feel her heart exploding inside her, like she was internally bleeding. That heavy feeling of pressure on her ribcage was too much. She was crying so hard, she was _wailing. _But even that didn't help at all. She was broken beyond repair.

She couldn't stop speaking. She couldn't stop crying. The tears wouldn't stop but she was half laughing now. The emotions were too much; perhaps her senses were too confused to function as well. Perhaps she had just gone mental, finally. "I told my mum about you, you know. I told her how much I loved you and how much I thought you loved me… She was excited to see you. But all you did was to _throw up_ in front of us, showing us how dirty we were. _How_ _disgusted_ _you were of me._" She uttered hurtfully while pointing an accusatory finger on his chest.

"But it didn't stop there… At school, you treated me like dirt. I tried _so hard _to continue my life. I was kicked out from Beauxbatons, the school that I actually considered my home, the one place that was so important to me. Some of my friends abandoned me. I had nowhere to go. Do you know how difficult it was? Of course you don't! Because you were the first to abandon me! People talked behind my back, some pitied me, and some just basically laughed at my _poor, ill-fated_ situation. Your friends were those people but you never stopped them. You were _one of them._" When she said those words, Draco's front faltered a bit as he looked away. His face was still emotionless, like a chiseled cold stone. He looked dead, but his walls seemed to collide a bit and it was obvious that he was trying to hide it when he turned away.

"No! Don't you _dare _turn away from me!" Hermione screamed while grasping his chin harshly to make him look at her. He didn't do anything. He was facing her but he wasn't looking back.

"You dated a lot of girls; you practically rubbed it on my face on how you screwed almost all the girls in the Slytherin house. And of course, they're all _purebloods, _and they're not as dirty as I am. You touched and kissed them right in front of me! As if telling me that I'll never be as good as them because I'm practically a dirt! And when I saw you having sex with Hestia Carrow, you _yelled_ at me to go away, as if I was a _pest_! I ran away and I almost passed out on the alley as I lay on the floor, I couldn't even go back to my common room to cry. You killed me right then, Draco… but you never knew that, of course. You didn't care! I could have died there but you never cared! You told me you loved me but you never meant it! You're a liar!" She shouted at him while sending harsh slaps on his face and pounding her knuckles on his already reddened chest. His lips were tightly pursed due to the pain, but he just let her hurt him.

"The only ones who were there for me were some of my friends, especially Ginny, who never gave up on me. I was miserable, but she was always there to patiently pick me up and make me smile. Without her, I've even probably died of heartbreak. But what did you do? Huh? What did you do, Draco? _You_ _let them kill her! _She was _burned to death_! You took her away from me as well! And _you_ left _me_ to burn there! If it hadn't been for Theo, I would have been dead by now! Maybe it is better that I'm dead. I have nothing left anyway. You took _everything _away from me! You use my body everyday. You control everything that I do. You took away my life! You took away my freedom! You took away my soul! And now you just _forced_ your child on me!" She screamed outrageously as she stood up, with the bed linen still clutched and twisted around her body.

"_I hate you. _I wish I've never even known you. You're a _monster_," she whispered harshly at him, like spitting acid poisonous rain at his very core.

It was the first time Draco had ever looked at her. He looked _so_ guarded, _so_ shielded but his eyes could never hide the pain that her very words had inflicted.

But, no. She wasn't guilty. It wasn't even enough for him to pay everything that he'd done to her.

She ran into their adjoined bathroom, hurling the door shut with a loud bang that she could swear she had almost conked it out.

Throwing the linen into the floor, she went inside the tub and opened the tap. She cried harder than she'd ever thought she could in her life. She wasn't sure if the water that was spraying on her body was the tub's shower, or her own salty, irredeemable tears.

She felt her mind travelling at a light's speed, it was tremendously painful. She tried to breathe to even her emotions, but none of it worked. So she wailed harder, throwing her head back into the headrest just to alleviate the tension on her heart region. It just stung so deep, she needed to get it all out. It was like riding a rollercoaster; the more you fought not to scream, the more it would hurt badly.

She tried to splint her chest with her palms. She cried until she could feel the water on her body drain off. It seemed like forever until her involuntary senses started to decide it was enough.

It was only later on that she realised that the water on the tub had overflowed.

How long had it been, however? Hours? Days? Years? She didn't know.

Her fingers were already wrinkled for being soaked for too long. Trying to feel her almost numbed hands, she closed the bath tap and shower. It was remarkably quiet when she did so. All she could hear were her soft hiccups and breathing spasms due to her endless crying. Her heart was too painful, like someone was morbidly squeezing the organ itself.

Draco hadn't done anything at the other side of the room. She knew he could have just opened the bathroom door with his own will but he didn't do anything.

She closed her eyes as she lay on the tub's headrest. Her temple was doing this strange tapping sound reverberating from her heartbeat and each pound was wounding.

Seconds later, she finally heard something from the other side of the door. Draco seemed to finally stand up from their bed. It seemed that he hadn't moved from there until he heard her sobs subsided. She could hear the soft shuffling of the bed linens, indicating that he had stood up. She could hear his heavy footsteps and the creak of the liquor cabinet, and knew that he had poured himself a drink. Leave it to his whiskies to make everything okay.

Her thoughts continued to swivel around her head like a cyclone as she closed her eyes.

She was having a baby…

There's a life inside her and it was still too surreal to even believe it. She was only seventeen, turning eighteen this September. How the hell was she supposed to be a mother in such a tender age? Draco had forced this on her, but even if that was the case, this life inside her was still hers.

She was going to keep this baby. She didn't even have to think twice about it. She couldn't even dare to think of harming the life inside her. She wasn't that kind of person.

Sure, it was going to be really hard; especially that they were in the middle of the war. But she was going to survive this. She would do anything to keep this baby and shield him or her from the brutality of the world.

She would do _everything_ to protect the life inside her… with or without Draco.

Yes, she couldn't stay.

She just couldn't stay here anymore. Everything was too destructive and she could never allow anything to endanger her baby. She would talk to Snape; beg him to help her get out. After all, it was him who had brought her here; surely, he could get her out as well, right?

They were in the middle of the war but she knew that Harry and the others could help her. She would raise this child on her own if she had to. Draco had taken everything away from her, even her identity. She couldn't let her child suffer the same fate that she had.

She was _so tired_, so drained of everything, of this continued subsistence, of setting up these domino tiles only to see them fall apart.

She was seeing her life in between the roulette table, knowing for a fact that the fates wouldn't let her win in any way.

Each spin was painful, but that was all. In the end, she was still the loser.

She opened her eyes to see some blurred edges of the bathroom ceiling. She was dead beat, from shagging, punching, clawing and shouting at her husband, to crying like there was no tomorrow. She was so worn out of everything, physically and emotionally. It was only a couple of seconds when her eyes finally closed again as darkness slowly started to creep in until sleep claimed her.

* * *

She didn't know how long she had drifted away. But it was already the crack of dawn when she woke up, wrapped up in her husband's arms on their king-sized bed.

She didn't know how she got here. Perhaps Draco had carried her out of the tub himself, dried her up and placed her on their bed with him. She looked up from his chest and saw his sleeping form. He had dark circles under his eyes, but he was fast asleep nonetheless. He looked paler than the usual, but the faint glows of dawn that had traveled into their windows slithered along his skin, making him look as immaculate as an angel.

Too bad he wasn't.

She touched his cheek and it was so warm… so conflicting from his cold walls.

How could something look and feel so good even if inside it was as rotten as hell?

"I have loved you so much that I could die for you, Draco. But now, I don't even know if this is going anywhere, or if this love is even worth it, or if you've even truly loved me back. I will never hurt this child because I'm not like you, I will never use this as an excuse for everything, but you _will never _see me and this child when I get the chance to get out of here. It would have been better if I died instead of Ginny. Burning in that tower would have been a better outcome than this…"

* * *

"So you want my girl to come here often just to make your wife utter a single word, at least?" Montague frowned as he sipped on his whiskey. Leaning against the set of ancient balustrade from the balcony they were now in, he stared down at the ladies who were now currently enjoying each other's company beside the Malfoy Lake.

Hermione looked a bit frailer and paler than what he remembered her at his ball last week. She was smiling weakly at Nesha, holding her hand like she was her very own little sister as they walked along the side of the lake, occasionally dipping their toes into the clear waters. Behind them were Hermione's maidservants who were unwearyingly shielding them against the sun with large umbrellas made of sophisticated silk and gingham, undoubtedly under Draco's orders.

"They'd been there for hours, Malfoy." Montague pointed out.

Draco didn't say a word and just continued on staring at his wife who was then leaning slightly into the lake to caress her fingers against the waters. Her long curls flowed dramatically into her shoulders, with tiny plaits along the sides. It was braided into a messy perfection.

It fitted her.

She was a messy perfection, after all.

She had a small smile on her face, it didn't quite reach her ears, but still, it was a smile; definitely better than her cold, stoic expression for the past week.

Montague had been going in and out of the manor as per usual, and he had noticed that Hermione had _never_ talked to Draco for more than a week now. She still ate, still read, but it was only when he wasn't around. She looked like a floating ghost sometimes. She wouldn't touch her food during their meals together, preferring to stare into an empty space every time her husband was near.

Montague had known Draco's constant questions to his wife's maidservants about it and they had told him not to worry as the mistress of the manor wasn't taking her health for granted. She would eat and would still do her normal leisure pursuits, but only when he wasn't around. Once, she had softly mentioned that the food she was eating was for her baby alone, and not for herself.

This had greatly troubled the lord of the manor. For days, Draco had been more than problematic and stressed out than he'd ever been in his entire stay at the dark lord's inner circle. He didn't show it during their hunts, or on his continued training with the dark lord. Yet, when everything was over, Montague would see the uneasiness in his actions. Malfoy was usually very adept in hiding his emotions, but it seemed that he'd been slipping a bit. It was quite unbecoming, seeing him like that. For a heartless person such as Draco Malfoy, this was just beyond comprehending.

And then, there was this tiny detail that he had carelessly accepted Theodore Nott into the alliance. No one really knew why. But Draco Malfoy was their pack's head; no one really had the right to question him.

He said that Nott could be a valuable asset to the cause, seeing that the guy had offered himself as a spy. After a series of interrogations, Draco said that Nott had actually been with the Order and he was willing to switch sides, in exchange for power and affluence that the Order had failed to offer him. There was barely any material comfort at the light side, and in this game, the dark side pretty much reveled with the upper hand.

Montague wasn't convinced as any of the members, but no one really questioned Malfoy's decisions. He had the dark lord's favour. Nothing else mattered.

The door from the Manor's balcony had then slowly opened to reveal an olive skinned man. Montague watched amusedly as a very wary Blaise Zabini walked in and rounded the terrace with a very uneasy expression. It seemed that Malfoy had called for him and he was forced to show himself. Montague couldn't blame his perturbed expression, of course. The poor guy had almost been killed by his best mate's torture.

"You're late," Draco cited, still not turning his eyes away from his wife's once in a blue moon smile. He didn't have the time to turn around to look at the new guest. Montague was fascinated on just how much Hermione's smile could be that important to this hard man, like a precious falling star that could go away in a blink of an eye.

"You called for me," Blaise uttered, obviously shrugging his statement off. Trepidation was still quite apparent in the crack of his voice, but it was clear that he was trying so hard not to show it.

Montague just sipped on his whiskey and braced himself for the coming show. Blaise and Draco are like little children whenever they're together. Ever since they were young, they'd often fight each other to death, but in the end, Draco would and always choose to play with him more than anyone else, and it was the same towards Blaise.

Their friendship started on a ruined cake table when a five year old Draco pushed and strangled him into it when they first met. They could kill each other, but later on could claim that they're still best friends, nonetheless. It was a sick friendship. But Montague guessed that Draco's relationships towards everybody were sick, anyway. Just one look at his wife's miserable disposition and one would know exactly what it meant. Malfoy was really just a ruined soul. Sometimes, he felt sorry for him. Most of the time, he was just plain scared of the madman.

"I could summon you whenever I want to. You're still under my orders," Draco replied coldly, still staring at his wife, who was then currently sitting on the grass with Nesha. They were now dipping their creamy legs on the lake's water and Montague couldn't help but stare as well.

"Sick bastard," Blaise muttered grumpily while he started to light a cigarette. Before he could kindle a fire, however, his cigarette was brutally snatched by an invisible force, making it instantly shoot into the floor near Draco's well polished shoe. Before he could react, the blond was already crushing it forcefully.

"What the fuck? Draco—"

"No one is allowed to smoke in my house anymore. Hermione has always been sensitive to it, and besides, it's not good for the baby."

There was a shocked silence before Blaise was able to grasp what the statement meant. "She's—_what_? Draco, what the actual fuck? First, you let Nott into the fucking alliance without even properly sending him to the dark lord for interrogation! And now you'll say that you've knocked Granger up? What the—"

"_Malfoy_. She is a Malfoy," he corrected him calmly.

"I don't fucking care! She's a traitor, Draco! I've seen it with my own eyes! You should—"

"I'm warning you, Blaise. If you don't shut up, you'd probably be sorry you've even been born," Draco hissed and at once, Blaise was quiet. Everyone knew it wasn't an empty threat.

"So, what do you think, Montague?" Draco turned to Montague as if nothing happened. Blaise was permanently turned off to the opinion category now.

"What do I think of what?" Montague was always careful to say anything against Draco. He held great power against him. One wrong word and he could lose his little nymphet, he knew. He didn't have the years of friendship Blaise had with Draco and he held nothing but a very insignificant role in their leader's life, but it seemed that Draco had taken quite an interest in his views lately, and he was willing to take advantage of that. Full on. Even Draco's mudblood wife had taken quite a liking to his own little mudblood. The fates had seriously decided to love him.

"I think that you've never failed in any of your decisions so far, Malfoy. So I guess, whatever it is that you're up to, we'll just have to wait and see. The dark lord always pleases in your ingenuity."

This made Malfoy actually smirk. "True," he nodded as if his magic mirror just assured him that he was the fairest in the land. Montague knew inflating his ego was the best strategy for gaining his favour.

"This is bullshit, Draco. Honestly, Nott has never been one of us. I don't even know what has gotten inside that mind of yours," Blaise cursed while running his hand on his head. He appeared so concerned of him. But Montague knew it wasn't what Draco's twisted mind needed right now. Stupid Zabini. Hadn't he learned his lesson yet?

"Know your place and stop questioning me, Blaise." Draco sounded dangerously fatal that Blaise' legs had involuntarily stepped back a bit. At least his body had learned all the danger signs to know exactly when to give up.

There was a long silence as Draco walked silently into the balcony's balustrade. Hermione had looked up and saw him directly looking at her. They held gazes for a while.

Hermione's left hand was still holding the little girl while her right was rested on her own still flat belly. She looked disgusted of him, angry beyond grasp. But the emotion was powerful. Montague could swear Hermione could never look at anyone like that, only if that someone was Draco Malfoy.

Draco looked passive as he stared at her. Montague didn't know if he had imagined it or not, but for a moment there, he truly looked hurt and… _sad_.

It was truly fascinating on how thick the unspoken passion the two seemed to have for each other. It astounded him the most that no matter what emotion they seemed to have, it could never be compared to anyone else's at all; like no one could even deem to see what they really had.

It was more than anything he'd ever seen in this world.

Maybe, it was the fact that, perhaps, from the very start, Draco and Hermione Malfoy were made to hate and detest each other. They were made to destroy each other, to rip each other apart. They were each other's downfall.

But, without a shred of doubt, that unspoken passion and unhealthy obsession, no matter how deadly and lethal, would still and always be because of the fact that no matter what, they had loved each other first and it would always be that way.

"Tell us, Draco. What did Nott tell you to make you accept him into the cause?" Blaise asked him frustratingly.

Draco shifted to look back at him for his reply, but before he could open his mouth, there was a sudden scream.

Hermione was found lying on the cold grounds.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "****Novacaine" by Green Day**** (Thank you to reader ****ladyrebelia**** for the song suggestion!)**

* * *

**A/N**

**I love you, guys!**

**Thanks for making this story reach 1k! :D Also, if you guys have the time, do check my other story "She's Just Not Into You" and please give it a little review if you can. :D I'm **_**very**_** proud of that story as well, and it's nearing 1k, would be nice if it really does get into 1k just like my "Almost Perfect, Almost Yours", yeah? It will make me very happy! **

**And oh, Philippine time would be the 13****th**** of February, sooo advance Happy Valentines day, everyone! :D Wishing you guys the sweetest day for tomorrow with your special someone! Have a blessed day!**

**Lots and lots **_**and lots**_** of love and kisses,**

**Sue**


	40. Belle of Dysphoria

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty**

"**Belle of Dysphoria"**

_The glaring lights were dancing. They created little kaleidoscope circles like little carols on a Christmas Eve. Little Hermione concentrated on them, wishing so hard she was staring at the well-lit sky above her mother's gardens. _

_But then, it happened again._

_Boom!_

_She got out of bed, running frantically into her cupboard now. Pushing away the fluffy dresses that were exquisitely hanging inside, she hid her self behind them. She gulped when she remembered she had forgotten her little baby, Princess __Véronique__, her favourite porcelain doll bought__ by her father for her 7__th__ birthday from an exquisite fashion doll boutique. She crept out, ran back into her bed to retrieve her baby and ran back again into her huge closet after, almost tripping herself in her haste._

_She hated thunderstorms. They felt like little bombs just above her roof. She was scared even to run outside and find her Nanny Demelza. There were just too many mirrors. She had heard that lightning and thunder loved mirrors. She covered her little baby's ears as she gently sang her a song._

"_Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleepy my little baby.  
When you wake, you'll have cake,  
And all the pretty little horses."_

_It was her favourite nursery rhyme. Nanny Demelza would sing it for her before tucking her for bedtime. It was just unfortunate that her Nanny Demelza thought she was already asleep. She looked at her pocket watch with delicate gilded silver and gold, and confirmed that it was already past midnight. Her Nanny left her hours ago. _

"_Blacks and bays, dapples and greys,  
A coach, and six little horses.  
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleepy my little baby."_

_She kissed her little baby, tilting it into a lying position as its porcelain eyes automatically closed as it should whenever slanted. _

"_I love you and I won't let anyone hurt you," she whispered into her sleeping doll. _

_There was a sudden light again and she braced herself for the coming explosion._

_Boom!_

_She couldn't take it anymore. It was louder than the last one!_

_She tried to stop her ominous tears as she bravely pushed her cupboard's door, running out barefooted. She opened the huge door of her room and ran outside. She ran wildly at the huge hall, with her long nightdress billowing along the cold and eerie mansion. _

_She wanted to run into the servants' quarters to find her Nanny Demelza, but she knew she couldn't. Her mother would seriously punish her if she did. It was forbidden. She couldn't go to Adrian's room because his room was located near her parents'. _

_So she started running at a familiar location._

_She tiptoed as she reached for the doorknob to his room._

_Boom!_

_She gasped and went directly into the little sleeping blond on the bed. How could he be so completely snoozed out in this condition? He was lying on his front and his arms were spread along the huge bed like he was flying. His huge blanket was completely useless as it twisted with his legs. He was a complete mess while slumbering. _

"_Draco?" She whispered warily while holding Princess __Véronique__ closer to her chest. _

_The boy just grunted in his sleep as he shifted around, his silvery baby fine hair sticking in all directions. It made her giggle for a while; until there was another bang._

_She screamed as she got closer to him._

"_Wha—?" The boy muttered, opening his eyes to see the scared girl who was inching her way towards his pillows. "Mione? What are you doing here?" He asked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes in confusion. _

_Before she could reply, however, a sudden explosion was heard once again. The girl gave a muffled shriek as she buried her face on the boy's ruffled pajama covered chest._

_Now he couldn't see anything, just enormous, soft curls bouncing like tidal waves as the girl hugged him even tightly, burying her face into his chest like a wounded puppy. _

"_Uhmm… Mione? It's gone now," Draco uttered uncomfortably while hesitantly smoothing her soft curls. He had once found out how soft they really were, and he was too captivated not to touch them._

"_Aren't you scared of thunders? I hate thunders. They said that they could hit your mirrors and explode on you. You should cover your mirrors, Draco," she muttered seriously from his chest as she looked up, her round, glassy eyes innocently staring at him. How could she always manage to make him feel a bit warmer? _

_He then stood up and got some of his blankets to cover the huge mirror inside his room. He struggled to reach the top of it, so he pulled a chair to stand on._

_He had declared that he wasn't scared of thunders and people believed it. His mother said he was an odd little boy for not doing so, but his father was proud of him for that. He much preferred his father to be proud of him so no one could ever know just how much he'd tremble secretly because of those sounds. Until the day came when… well, he wasn't afraid anymore. He supposed everything really just goes away whenever one would ignore it._

_At a very tender age, he wasn't allowed to get scared at all._

"_There, it's all covered," he announced while jumping out of the chair and striding haughtily towards the scared girl, acting all brave and strong. That night, Hermione could swear he was just her hero. _

"_Can Princess __Véronique__ and I stay here?" She asked him softly. _

"_Who? Your doll?" He asked bluntly while looking down at the doll being squished on the little girl's chest. Its soft curls blending perfectly with the girl's tresses. _

"_She's my baby," she smiled toothily at him. _

"_Oh," Draco uttered. His next words were unexpected, however. "Who's the daddy?"_

"_No one," Hermione shook her head. "But Adrian says he will be if I ask him nicely."_

"_No!"Draco suddenly shouted along with the cue of the thunder. _

_This made Hermione shriek while burying her head with the pillows. _

"_It's okay, Mione. I already covered the mirror," he assured her while patting her back. _

"_Why don't you want Adrian to be the daddy?"_

"_Because he's your brother so he can't," he told her a matter-of-factly._

_He had a point. Hermione scrunched her nose up for a while as she thought deeply, until she looked up and smiled at him. "Can you be the daddy, Draco?"_

"Oh, there she is." An affectionate smile from an old woman entered Hermione's slightly blurry vision. She was still a bit delirious, almost half-asleep. All she could see at first was the woman's smile, and she thought she was home with her Nanny Demelza. It was only later on that she realised that it was the Malfoy family healer that she was face to face with.

"Princess? How do you feel?" Draco's worried form emerged from her vision. He looked stressed, she could make form of the small wrinkles outlining his face, like an unfinished sketches from a painting.

Was he really the boy she was talking to through her memory lane a while ago?

He had grown up.

It was amazing on how she could feel so much more secured on that little boy than this grown version.

She didn't respond and just looked away. She hadn't spoken to him for more than a week, and she was definitely not starting now.

"Is she going to be alright?" She heard him ask in a soft tone to the healer. He sounded a bit hurt. But he deserved it well.

"Of course, Milord. But in most cases, it is not possible to start having pregnancy symptoms so early. The female body may take about two weeks to produce the hormone necessary for these, but every woman is different; and especially that magical women are actually always advanced in everything," she explained while spooning a little amount of liquid from the potion she was stirring.

"Or this may have been triggered by physical or emotional stress," she continued. "But still, it is quite an advantage for us to know about her pregnancy this early because of the full body assessment we have conducted a while ago. By this, you already know what you are expecting. A woman's body is very fragile. It connects easily with her emotions. It is best that the Lady Hermione be treated well and be protected at all costs against anything that might physically or emotionally harm her. Losing consciousness like this when she is only a week gone can be related to too much stress. It is very unlikely."

Draco looked too serious as he nodded, listening intently to the healer. He had his right hand caressing Hermione's hair and his left lovingly squeezing her hand. He looked so worried and protective of her. In normal circumstances, he could have looked like the perfect husband an expectant mother could ever dream of.

But there was nothing normal in this relationship.

"Here, milady. Drink this." Hermione was made to get up to drink the potion. She was still so weak, and her head hurt a bit, as well as her upper body. She realised that she had a little gash on her left temple. Perhaps, it was because of her brutal fall a while ago.

Nesha wasn't there any longer. She didn't know how long she had dozed off, but she wished she could see her friend again.

She winced slightly and it took Draco's attention.

"What's wrong, baby? Where does it hurt? Huh? Tell me," he asked her almost pleadingly, sounding so worried as he supported her back with a pillow and kissed her temple lovingly.

Hermione made no answer.

"_Please_ tell me, Hermione. I'm your husband. Tell me where it hurts."

His stubborn witch just looked away; still wincing a bit as she struggled to sit on her own.

The healer stepped closer to try to help but Draco's arm brutally stopped her. The poor older lady couldn't do anything but nervously step away.

"Princess, please… Let me help you," he cooed gently. "I want to know where it hurts so that I can—"

It was over.

Hermione was finally able to sit; after all her brave, patient struggles. She had leant on the pillows comfortably _without his help._

He had lost it.

"_DAMMIT!"_ He cursed vehemently, kicking the coffee table to be strewn upside down, crashing several glasses on top of it. He looked scarier than hell. The veins on his arms were marked more than ever. His breathing was ragged as he screamed and punched the glass wall of his liquor cabinet, its pieces making his knuckles bleed.

He was just out of control.

The healer ran into Hermione, who had then started to cry fearfully, too shocked by her husband's hostile reaction.

"Milady, it's okay. Calm down, just—"

"Get the _fuck out_!" Draco shouted violently to the older lady. The healer didn't need to be told twice as she shakily scurried out of the room, leaving Hermione crying and crumpling into the bed.

He looked at her for almost a whole minute, taking in her scared and miserable disposition as he exasperatingly ran a hand on his hair.

The blood had mixed with his cheeks and neck as he did so. Hermione could swear she had never seen any scarier individual in her whole life than what he looked in that moment.

Draco looked away from her, almost shamefully as he looked down into the mess he had done. It seemed that he too, was somehow stunned on what he just did. He was still breathing so hard, still slightly shaking from his recent rage. His hands were tightly locked on his sides, his jaw tightening into a painful force. He looked like he was about to explode.

But a second later, he was gone, leaving Hermione to helplessly cry on her bed while staring at the ruined mess on the floor.

* * *

The swans along the lake were taking their time to float around their sanctuary, creating gentle ripples along the clear waters. It was such a sweet distraction. Slow, peaceful, melancholic…

Hermione breathed deeply, finding comfort on the serene ambiance she found in the view outside her magnificently refined but secluded room. The soft, white curtains danced with the wind, like ghostly ballerinas against the glorious sunbeams.

She didn't know how long she'd been asleep. She didn't even know what day or hour it was. But she had a dreamless, peaceful slumber. Her head felt light and she was well rested. Whatever potion the healer gave her when she returned worked absolutely fine.

But now, she was just so hungry. Slowly creeping out of bed, she stood up to walk outside. She could just easily summon her maidservants, but she wanted to get out of the room first. She didn't know when and how long she'd been here and besides, her legs felt like jelly. She hadn't walked for a long time, she supposed.

The room was as clean and as glorious as it was. The old liquor cabinet was replaced with an even bigger one, with its gildings even more beautiful and sophisticated than ever. There was no sign that anything happened in this place. Perhaps, she had just dreamt about it? She didn't know any longer. This prison was eating out her mentality.

She took two calming breaths before finally walking towards the large door. She was wearing her long, white, semi-transparent and flimsy nightgown, with the silkiest of silk and she felt like a ghost tiptoeing to float outside. She still felt like floating, anyway, having slept for too long. Her long, wild, curly hair flowed dramatically on her back. Draco had forbidden her to cut it again and it had grown so long now, almost along her buttocks.

She was barefooted, but she felt like it was better since she didn't want her husband knowing she'd been awake and going on and about around the manor. He hated her being unaccompanied. But she just felt like walking… just walking and thinking about everything. And she'd do anything to disobey him, anyway. She hated the monster.

Her heart stopped, however, by the time she had reached the grand staircase of the manor going to the main foyer. For directly in her vision, down the incredibly spacey and long stairway, was Theodore Nott.

He was sitting on one of the settees of the Malfoy repose area, sipping calmly on his drink. He was unaware of her as he was looking sideways. Hermione couldn't see any other occupants so she assumed he was alone, and she frankly didn't care if he wasn't. The fact that Theo, someone on her side, was here, gave her a feeling of relief and elation. He was her saving grace, her redeemer and liberator in this golden cage.

"Theo!" She shouted happily as she bounded the stairs, almost jumping as she took two steps at a time, her long nightgown flowing flimsily behind her. The man looked up and saw her, but he didn't move an inch.

Why wasn't he moving, dammit! She missed him so much. It was a good thing she was barefooted so it was easier to run.

She was running so fast to get to him. She just needed to get to him. She didn't notice the swift arms that had suddenly snaked around her waist from behind; her body was tightly drawn into her captor, almost knocking her back to his chest.

She gasped when she figured out that it was her husband who was holding her tightly, possessively.

She suddenly realised that Theo wasn't alone in the huge foyer. Professor Snape, Blaise Zabini, Graham Montague, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Marcus Flint, Peregrine Derrick, Lucian Bole and even Miles Bletchley were also there.

Theo was seated on a divan directly in front of the staircase and he was the only one who wasn't covered by the large procession of balustrade on her line of vision a while ago.

She gulped when she comprehended that they were actually in the middle of a meeting of some sorts, and she just came barging in, in the middle of the occasion like a badly behaved child.

"Tsk, Malfoy. You have one feisty pixie there, huh?" Miles Bletchley smirked, lustily taking in her form.

Hermione was beyond embarrassed. Even Snape was shaking his head slightly at her, giving her the message that she had indeed done a very off beam move. Theo was fixing his gaze at her but still hadn't moved in his original position.

"What did I tell you about running around?" Draco tsked before kissing her temple, still possessively holding her waist. "You know it's not good for your health, and for the baby."

By these words, Theo's head shoot up, alternating to Draco and back to Hermione. "Baby?" He finally uttered. He sounded a bit angry, even accusatory when comprehended more deeply.

Hermione didn't know why she felt a bit guilty about it.

But she did promise him something before going away, right?

"Oh, I've forgotten about telling you the good news. My wife is expecting. I am going to be a father soon. Isn't it right, Hermione? Go on, tell them, love," Draco smirked triumphantly, squeezing her waist to urge her to speak something.

"I-It's not what you think," she was staring at Theo alone. If Draco noticed it, he didn't seem to mind a bit. If it was even possible, he appeared as if he was enjoying it. "I-I didn't…" Her voice faltered as Theo looked away coldly, almost as if she was suddenly nonexistent.

"Congratulations, Malfoy," Theo smirked as he finally stood up. Walking pass the couple, he poured himself a drink. "That deserves a celebration," he announced before raising his wineglass into the air and downing its contents with one gulp.

"Thank you," Draco smiled back before kissing his wife's hair once again. She wanted to cry. His arms were too tight around her, she couldn't get away.

For hours, she was kept glued into his arms as they talked morbidly about some of their conquests, congratulating each other for killing this and that. She almost got sick on how twisted they all sounded. She just really wanted to run away from there.

"Your little doll doesn't look okay, Malfoy," Marcus Flint pointed out, looking almost like he was entertained of Hermione's appalled expression.

"She's _not saying anything. _If she's not feeling well, she'll _say_ it _to me_," Draco answered flatly. Hermione wanted to punch him. She knew he was trying to punish her for ignoring him for too long. He'd always been impatient of everything, and she could tell that he was really frustrated. And now, he was taking it all out on her.

"What's wrong, baby? Tell me," Miles Bletchley winked at her. If she wasn't imprisoned in Draco's arms, she could have had kicked the wanker off.

"She's still really a dish, though," Lucian Bole commented while checking her out, even having the nerve to lick his lips in the process.

"Yeah, how many times do you bang her every day, Malfoy?" Miles Bletchley asked boldly.

"As many times as she wants me to," Draco smirked smugly, "she's incorrigible."

Everyone, except Theo and Snape, laughed and whistled.

Blaise Zabini had the loudest laugh. The bastard. Hermione knew he really hated her. They'd once shared a good, comfortable friendship before. He was Draco's closest friend back at Hogwarts and he and Hermione had even shared a laugh or two. Right now, she was nothing but a traitor to him. He'd always been at his best friend's side even way back then and knowing that she was betraying him, he was enjoying, more than ever, the little victory of watching her in her demise.

Well, guess what. _Fuck_ him. Fuck them all.

If she would have the chance, she'd throw them all in Azkaban to rot. If she couldn't do it, then maybe she could kill them. Merlin knew it would make the world so much better.

"Is she a screamer then, Malfoy?"

"Oh yes. She begs for it every time."

More boisterous laughter from the group.

That did it.

She roughly elbowed her husband with all her might that she even managed to draw out a grunt of pain from him. When he fleetingly let go, her knuckles had swiftly connected into his jaw. Her hand hurt so damn much, but she was happy she had hurt him more.

She hazily heard a crack but she couldn't linger to see the masterpiece that she had done since before he could grab her again, she had ran directly into the stairs.

Draco was screaming her name and she vaguely heard his friends laughing behind, as if she was nothing but a brief entertainment.

She could feel the tears flowing from her eyes as she finally entered the sanctuary of her room. She let her body crumble into the floor, sliding slowly from the door that separated her from the cruel, nasty beings outside.

She felt her hand stroking her tiny belly. Her stomach was still very flat, but she knew that a being, though even seemed nonexistent still, was currently residing there.

"We'll get out of here, my baby. I promise you, okay? Mummy will try her hardest so nothing like this will ever happen to you. Mummy loves you so much and she'll protect you."

After everything, despite the tears, she still managed to smile.

At least she had someone on her side right now. At least she wasn't alone.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Russian Roulette" by Rihanna**

* * *

**A/N: **

**Poor, Hermione! :( But stay tune! I have already written some scenes for the later chapters. There is more than meets the eye. ;) Thanks for all the reviews! God bless. **

**Love, Sue**


	41. He was Her, She was Him

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-One**

"**He was Her, She was Him"**

**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire England**

**2****nd**** January 1998**

She was on her eighth month now, and she felt heavier more than ever.

It was quite a tough time for her. She was always tired so easily. She'd always sleep all day long, which was a problem as she couldn't sleep at night because of it. She was always uncomfortable and her breasts were so engorged she was sure they were competing with her gigantic belly.

What made things so much easier was, unexpectedly, her husband.

She _really_ couldn't understand him at all.

He was more unpredictable than the weather itself. At least when she'd look up at night and see that the stars were twinkling there, she'd know eventually that it wouldn't rain.

But with Draco, there was _nothing _knowable or foreseeable with him.

He _never_ said sorry to what happened months ago; on how he made her an object of ridicule and laughter in front of his friends. But he didn't complain about the ugly bruise she gave him, either.

She thought he was going to get out of control with her after what she did to him in front of his friends. He appeared really angry as he shouted her name when she ran away.

She was so ready for everything, for his imminent rage, for what he'd do when he'd enter the room. She'd fight back, it was for sure. She wasn't afraid of him. She was just afraid for her baby.

What happened when he entered the room had, however, greatly surprised her.

He had the ugliest bruise on his left cheek. But he acted as if it wasn't there. He acted as if nothing happened. His expression was the same as that of every night he'd come home.

He took her hand and gently healed it. And then, he still slept tightly, kissing and holding her possessively like his very own ruined doll.

He had a teddy bear once when he was young. Hermione remembered it was his favourite. He named it Mr. Bear. She had laughed at its name before when they were younger, knowing just how she'd always give her own dolls such fancy names like her PrincessVéronique. He reasoned out that he was too young to name anything when it was given to him. She had kissed Mr. Bear for him before saying she was sorry, seeing how hurt he looked when she laughed at its name. Right then, she knew how special it was for him.

It was tattered and threadbare now, with its eyes poking out, leaving it brutally looking blind. Its limbs were ready to fall out because of overstretching, but it was still there.

All his old toys had been thrown away, but Mr. Bear was still there. Hermione had seen it on his closet once, when she was looking for his blueprints at one of his assigned missions for the hunt.

For some morbidly, implausibly, terrifying reason, she had somehow compared herself to the poor, overused toy. Draco loved his teddy bear that he had ruined it.

Draco loved her that he had destroyed her.

But she really wasn't sure if he was doing it purposely or just because of the fact that she was ruining him as well.

For above all, he was providing her everything she needed in her months of pregnancy.

Once, on her earlier months, he'd gone berserk over her maidservants for not being able to serve her the right dish that she wanted. She hated it whenever he'd shout and reprimand her maidservants for her own sake, but she just couldn't control her appetite and cravings.

They had served her usual Oxtail soup, but she just couldn't swallow it down that time. She had craved for it and had asked her maidservants for it, but when it was finally served, the smell had been too awful although she really couldn't understand why. Last thing she knew, she was vomiting all over the room to the point of almost passing out.

Draco was beyond angry. He was pretty much livid. He had summoned Hermione's maidservants along with the house elves who were unwearyingly working in the kitchen quarters to punish them accordingly.

Hermione wanted so much to stop him but she just couldn't stop heaving out all the contents she had eaten. She was given a calming draught by the Malfoy family healer as well as some potions for her anomalous gag reflex.

When she was calmed down, Draco had stayed with her, rubbing her back gently as she lay on his chest. She couldn't do anything but to lean on him. She had no one, after all. He had made sure of that.

It was his familiar smell of pines and fresh winter that comforted her. He had kissed her temple and whispered soothing words on her ears until she had fallen asleep.

He made sure to go home every night to check on her, to make sure that she was given the best possible care and she was given anything that she needed. Hermione noticed just how much Draco's missions had gone particularly more difficult than ever, seeing just how the war was taking its toll now, but he'd always go home at least. Even if he looked too dead beat, he'd still check on her and kiss her goodnight.

She still wouldn't talk to him, but it was very obvious on just how much she needed him and he _knew_ that. He pampered her too much to the point that she was unable to do things normally without him anymore. She always had trouble sleeping at night due to her condition and he'd rub her feet and massage her legs to send her to a comfortable slumber. His warmth and soothing smell had become too familiar that she just couldn't sleep without him anymore.

He had taken good care of her when she was ill, even to the point of carrying her into the bathroom if she was feeling too dizzy to walk. During her earlier weeks, he'd hold her hair when she'd vomit, would monitor everything she ate and every potion the family healer would give her, making sure it was all safe.

During the fifth month, the very first time he'd ever felt their baby move; Draco had this endless mania of touching her belly. He loved just how much her breasts had gone bigger that they could pop out from her clothing. He loved touching and kneading on them. But when their baby started moving, he'd become too obsessed with her belly. Sometimes, before going to sleep, he'd kiss her stomach and nuzzle on it like a little child.

Draco had these two personalities, she knew. He was the criminal. He was a hard man, the head of Voldemort's strongest hunting pack of younger men, competing next to Greyback's crazy hordes and even higher than Lucius Malfoy's seniors and older brigade. Draco was powerful and he always made sure to brag that, to walk around his division in pure arrogance, displaying just how much he could lord over everyone and kill them with a snap of his fingers.

But then, there was this other Draco whenever they were alone. She wasn't exactly sure what he was. He was too unpredictable. He could fall back into this dominant creature, and then next moment, he could be this little boy again. Sometimes, he was calm and hushed, letting her do anything she wanted. Sometimes, he'd control her and imprison her on their room whenever she was being disobedient. But sometimes, he'd just do _anything_ for her.

On her earlier months, he was sufficient in taking care of her hormones. Sometimes, when she wanted him to have sex with her, all she had to do was to initiate the kissing. He'd provide her the pleasure her raging hormones badly wanted. It was weird since she was still not on talking terms with him but it was still very alright for her to have sex with him.

Sometimes, she felt like she was using his body. After her release, she'd fall back into this nonexistent stone who wouldn't utter a single word to him. But he didn't seem to complain as he was somehow using her body in the process as well.

Without the talking and conversation, their physical relationship seemed to become even stronger. Every touch, every action, every gesture seemed to become louder than any word to utter.

Sometimes, Hermione thought that having this cold war with him had resulted to an opposite upshot.

They were like these negative and positive electrical charges, _so_ different from each other, _very_ dissimilar in every way. But the enticement and temptation to be so near to each other, the pull to touch, to _feel_ each other was undeniable. It was like an irrefutable science in the air, the law of magnetism. One is positive, one is negative but neither could live without the other. There was an unquestionable resist to separation and the power to fasten together.

With them, there was this certain level of intensity.

And the longer they stayed together, the stronger it gets. The longer they tried to stray against each other, the stronger the pull of magnetism gets as well. There was no choice left. It had gotten out of hand.

_He_ was _her_ and _she_ was _him_.

They were such a twisted pair. She had thought of that over and over again that it almost seemed too normal when said now. It just all went down to the reason that no matter how much they used each other, it was just because of the fact that they just couldn't survive without the other.

It was like parasitism, with both being the parasites and hosts at the same time. It was to hurt each other to live, or get away from each other and die.

It was just the way it was and a single fracture along that line could result to insanity.

Hermione rubbed her bulging belly as she sighed for the umpteenth time that night.

Draco was late.

He was always late in going home every night, but so far, this was the latest he'd ever been.

It was already three in the morning and she just couldn't sleep without him stroking her hair or rubbing her belly. She needed his warmth near her more than ever. She supposed it was the baby's doing, or maybe it was just her.

She was always scared nowadays.

She had noticed just how much the war had heated more than ever. It had affected her husband so much and she could tell there was really something amiss, like he was expecting some looming doom to happen.

Once, she had woken up in the middle of the night. Draco wasn't in bed with her, but he was sitting on a divan near her, doing nothing but sipping on his whiskey while staring pensively at her.

It looked as if he was trying to freeze the moment that she was there, that she was near him.

It looked as if he was worried or scared, but she couldn't tell.

He was a master when it comes to masking his emotions, but sometimes, when he didn't know that she was looking back, she would see just how much fear there really was in his eyes. This had disturbed her to no end, but she just couldn't bring herself to talk to him anymore. He never said he was sorry, so it was just right that she wouldn't feel sorry for him as well.

He'd been quite stressed for the past months, not only because she was in a delicate condition but also because of his hunts.

He was often problematic when he'd scroll through his documents inside his study. She didn't know what was happening but no one would tell her anything.

Sometimes, she'd stand beside the door of his study, doing nothing but stare at him. He wouldn't mind. He would let her do anything she wanted. But he was with his usual mask again whenever he would know that she was there.

Knitting, at least, took her mind elsewhere, away from Draco's puzzling behaviour for the past months.

Hermione had started on knitting without magic. She had read almost all the books in the library and she wanted to try on something new. She had made a couple of socks and hats for her baby already. She didn't know the gender of the baby yet, so she'd chosen some unisex colours. She'd usually knit by the fireplace then wake up on her bed after. Draco had always transferred her from one place to another without waking her up. She didn't know how he'd do that, but she supposed she had gotten too comfortable with his warmth to even wake up when she was moved, or maybe it was just her awful body which was always too damn tired every day.

Since Theo came, Draco's missions had always been difficult. It wasn't like before, when he'd always get the victory. He'd host a ball or two after some of his big missions. Right now, however, it wasn't the case any longer.

Sometimes, she'd hear him argue with Blaise and Montague, two of his trusted front men, or sometimes, with Theo himself.

Hermione had the strongest inkling that Theo was behind all these; in fact, she was just so sure about it. Somehow, he had managed to screw on Draco's plans but still got his trust anyway

Her husband's missions and place to the dark lord was somehow slipping. It was falling apart and by some means, her husband knew it. This was perhaps the reason why he'd always looked so strained and weary every time he'd go back home.

Whatever it was that Theo's doing or planning, it was dangerously working.

But what was he planning?

Why wouldn't he talk to her?

She knew he was still angry about learning her pregnancy, but how could she explain everything to him when he was always so cold?

Snape was useless.

He wouldn't tell her anything. She had begged him to let her go back to the Order but he wouldn't let her, said it was best for her to stay. He even threatened her that he was going to tell Draco about her plans of going away if she kept on bugging him about it. He said her presence here was needed, whether she liked it or not. He said she needed to stay or she'd just ruin everything.

His words felt like they were filled with meaning but she honestly couldn't understand.

She knew that Snape cared for Draco because he was his godson, but sometimes she had the feeling that he really cared more for him than his role in the Order. By this, she couldn't figure out which side he truly was.

She honestly didn't know whom to trust anymore.

She was diverted from her thoughts when she felt her baby kick a little. A small smile graced her feature along with a bit of grimace as she rubbed her belly.

She knew her baby was telling her that she wasn't alone, that no matter what, she had someone who was there with her.

That single act from her angel made her smile a bit.

She rubbed her huge belly once again before getting up to stare at the door. For minutes, she did nothing but just stare at it.

It was quarter to four, but Draco wasn't there yet.

She could feel that little apprehension in her chest. Even her baby felt it as well as he or she just wouldn't stop kicking.

"Baby, please stop now. Mummy is getting too tired," she grimaced as she rubbed her round belly soothingly. She hadn't slept the whole night and her head was slightly pounding heavily together with her heart.

Why was Draco so late? She couldn't sleep without him. He should have been here hours ago.

And then, seconds later, her questions were answered.

She flinched when the door to their bedroom suddenly burst open… with her much bloodied, almost dying husband, carried by his godfather. The family healer and the maidservants were urgently tagging behind them.

"Hurry! We have no time! He's losing too much blood," Snape exclaimed, placing him on the bed while doing his best to cast some spells to heal the dying man in front of them.

Hermione didn't know what to do. She was rooted at the side, eyes bulging in shock to what her husband looked like. He was as pale as a ghost, with blood spurting in each of his cut; it appeared he was tortured and stabbed to death.

If she hadn't seen his heaving chest, she was sure he looked as if he was actually _dead_…

Hermione's legs backed away, a hand on her chest, the other on her bulging stomach.

Because right then, seeing her husband in that condition, looking… dead, it had taken away all abhorrence she had ever felt for him, leaving her with a single emotion.

Sadness… an impossibly painful, excruciating grief and anguish. It was like a black hole. There was nothing but deep, dark _sadness_.

In her rage before, she had often wished him to die, or be killed, or just disappear. But seeing _this_ right in this moment, she realised how wrong she truly was.

Every person in the room was rushing to revive him, to let him survive this. Even Snape was looking anxious as he uttered strange incantations to close his unfathomably deeper, deadly wounds. His mouth was rapidly twisting in directions, as if singing a lullaby with strange, alienated words. The Professor's hands were shaking a bit as he did so and Hermione knew that whatever it was that happened to Draco, it could seriously take his life.

But she hadn't done anything.

She couldn't.

She just stood there, with her eyes ready to pop out in fright. She felt numbed and deadened. She didn't even know the reason why water just kept on flowing down from her face. She didn't know where it was coming from, from her eyes, perhaps, but she couldn't feel a thing anymore.

It took half an hour to send him into a stable state and to alleviate his body's spasms.

When his stitches were fairly closed, the family healer rushed to him to close some of the wounds left and to offer him a blood-replenishing potion to top up the blood levels he had loss from the damage. He'd lost too much blood and he could die in a heartbeat if the potion was not taken at once.

But unexpectedly, Draco had deliriously pushed the healer away from him. The spasms were gone but his breathing was becoming more and more laboured and his eyes were gently sloping. He was fighting consciousness but everyone in the room knew he wouldn't be able to make it if some of the wounds weren't closed and if he couldn't drink the only potion that could save his life.

"Stay put, boy! You need to drink this. You need to let us heal you!" Snape was becoming more and more agitated. It was very unlike him, a sign on how grave this truly was.

But Draco wasn't listening. He kept on thrashing around, pushing the healer and the maidservants away. Even Snape couldn't go near him as the latter struggled feverishly, scattering more blood on the bed sheets and opening some of his fresh wounds in the process.

"Open the bottle, I'm restraining him," Snape urgently announced at the healer. "We have no time. We need to force this on him. He needs to—"

"Hermione… Hermione, _please_…"

Everyone instantly stopped and quieted as their attention went directly to the trembling girl who was standing by the wall.

"Hermione… Hermione… My princess…"

Hermione didn't know what to do. In fact, she couldn't do anything. She couldn't move at all.

"Heal him," Snape spoke through the silence as he stared at the shaking girl, stretching his own wand for her to take. Snape had _never_ let anyone borrow his wand. This unusual act screamed just how vital Draco's condition was at the moment.

Hermione felt her hand shakily move to reach out and accept the wand.

When Snape's wand connected to her hand, she almost gasped. The familiar feeling of tingling magic into her skin towards her veins was too wonderful.

She had _never_ held a wand for more than a year now, and the feeling was too… miraculous, she couldn't explain it. It was like discovering magic the very first time again.

It was when she realised that she was actually _holding a wand_.

This was her chance. She could get out of here! She could blast her way out, get into the foyer towards the Malfoy grounds and there, she could apparate her way back to the Order. She could—

"Hermione… Princess…"

Draco…

He was calling her name.

"Heal him, child," Snape told her softly. She had never heard him speak this way. "He wants you to heal him. He doesn't want anyone else."

He wasn't coercing her. He was just merely talking to her.

He was giving her a choice.

This was probably the only chance she was ever going to have in getting away from this place, from this hell.

_..._

_"D-Draco?" _

_"How true is this?" _

_"What do you mean __this__? This is my life, Draco. This is the real me."_

_"How fucking true is this?" _

_"T-This is __me__, Draco. This is my home. This is my mum. She's a dentist, as well as my dad. He's not here yet but he will be once he's done with his appointments for the day. They are healers of teeth, a muggle profession. They are muggles and they love me. I'm a muggleborn, Draco. But I am still __me__. I'm still __Hermione__. I will always be."_

...

...

_"Get the fucking hell out of here, Granger! Dammit!"_

...

...

_"Don't you dare walk out on me!" _

_"I can do anything I want! I can walk out on anybody I want! You don't own me and you can't tell me what to do or not do!" _

_"And so you flirt with other guys now? You're such a whore!"_

...

...

_"That's it? That's your gift? Another whore? You're useless as shit!" _

_"Draco, you listen to me. This is—"_

_"What do you want me to do, huh? Fuck her and then forgive you? You and Blaise are the same! You both are useless! But alright then, I might as well entertain myself." _

_"Wait, don't hurt her, boy. Her chains are—"_

_"Her chains are what, huh? You sent her to her doom and now you care? Maybe you've already fucked her before giving her to me. You could do that, anyway. You're a selfish old man, trying to steal my glory, huh? Well, I'm sorry but I'm the dark lord's right hand now!"_

...

...

"_How many times do you bang her every day, Malfoy?" _

_"As many times as she wants me to, she's incorrigible."_

_"Is she a screamer then, Malfoy?"_

_"Oh yes. She begs for it every time."_

...

...

More taunting laughter… It was too much.

If she chose to stay, she would be considered as the greatest, most dim-witted masochist in the world.

If she chose to stay, she might as well forget about her dignity or any pride left of her. She'd throw away the single self respect she ever had for herself.

If she chose to stay, she was as good as a puppet, with no soul, with no choice at all.

She was a step closer to the door.

But then…

"Hermione… Hermione… Princess…"

"He is dying," Snape whispered calmly beside her.

She couldn't do it.

She just couldn't.

She couldn't… leave him.

...

_"Ssh… It's alright, Mione. It's okay. I'm here now. You'll be fine now. I'm sorry I shouted at you. You know I did it because I'm just really worried, right? Tsk… please, stop crying now. Come on. We should get you both out of here."_

...

...

_"Please stay here, Draco. I'm too scared to sleep alone now. I really didn't want to secretly sneak out like that, you know. I was just… well, I was just a bit angry at you. But then again, I realised I really didn't have the grounds to get angry at you. I mean… anything that you ever had with them are over now and it's just a part of your past, right?" _

_"I know that, okay? I told you I'm not angry anymore, Hermione."_

_"Still, I'm sorry for doing it."_

_"I told you it's okay, princess. Now, go to sleep. I don't want to hear you saying sorry again just because of that, okay?"_

_..._

_..._

_"What am I to you, Draco? Tell me what I really mean to you."_

_"You're everything to me. I love you now and I will love you forever, no matter what happens. I promise. Never forget."_

...

...

_"What will happen to me without you?" _

_"You'll never know because I'll never ever let you go. I will never let that happen. I'd have to kill first before I do that."_

_"Promise me we'll stay like this, Draco. Promise me this won't change. Promise me this is forever."_

_"I promise you. I'll give you the world, Hermione. You'll always be my princess. I won't let anything happen to you. You're mine and you'll always be. You've always been mine."_

...

...

_"You used to hold me this way before."_

_"I'd always hold on to you tighter because I was afraid our hands would slip out."_

_"Our hands were very sweaty back then."_

_"I didn't mind. I was more concerned of you walking away from me."_

...

...

_"But like a faerie, Graham said that Malfoy has weakness as well, though he wouldn't really tell me, so I read about it and found out about the fae's weakness. It is because of a broken heart. The euphemistically wee folk would often fall in love with mortals, those who are not their kind. They die of broken hearts. You can see it on their chests. When they die, the spot where the heart is placed turns black, as well as the veins that surround it, and they die with grief-stricken but devoted eyes, and then there are always tears. Tears can never be absent. And they just die, right there. Despite of their power and supremacy, they just die, just like that… for a mere mortal."_

...

No.

She couldn't let go and let him die.

She couldn't let go of him, _of this_, of what they have.

And so she gave it all up. She ran into him, hysterically crying in abandon as she fell down on her knees to hold him.

"You'll be alright. It's okay, Draco. Just breathe with me okay?" She cried while caressing his sweat covered hair.

His eyes were shut too tightly but it fluttered open when he felt her.

He was feverish, shaking his head in unadulterated pain. But he breathed with her, sucking the air like his life depended on that small request.

"Hermione, please don't… please don't."

"Please don't what, Draco?"

"Please don't leave me. _Please_…" He looked like a child, like he had reverted back to that little boy by the pond. "Please, Hermione… Please don't leave me. Please…"

"Shhh… It's okay. I'm here. I'm going to heal you, okay? You need to drink the potion, Draco," she pleaded him as she took the vial from the healer to place it on his lips.

Despite his pain, Hermione could see his effort as he painfully opened his mouth for her to pour the contents of the vial, desperately holding on the hem of her nightdress, like a scared little boy pleading her to stay with him. This made her cry harder.

Right in that moment, she realised, no matter what he did to her, even if perhaps, he'd break her heart over and over again… she would _still and always_ love him.

She just couldn't give _this_ up.

He could kiss her too brutally that she could bruise; he could embrace her too tightly until it would hurt.

But after everything, she realised that no matter what, _she'd accept the hurt just to get the kiss._

She could cry to see him smile. She could shout to hear him whisper. She'd close her eyes to let him see the light.

She'd stop breathing to let him _live_.

She could _burn_ just so she couldn't lose this _feeling_.

With Draco, it was everything.

And after everything, she realised, she was willing to have the _bad_ just to keep the _good_.

People could say she was stupid, but they'd _never_ understand, because _nothing like this _ever happened to them, and she'd keep it, fold her hands and never let it go.

Even if it could cause her to bleed, she would never let go.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "My Skin" by Natalie Merchant (This has got to be the **_**PERFECT**_** song of Hermione for Draco, go listen, it's beautiful).**

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews and for the song suggestions! They give me so much inspiration in writing this. This story is getting into me, seriously. And I'm so thankful to you, my loyal readers, for being with me through all this. I promise I'll try my hardest not to disappoint. For the meantime, continue giving me reviews to learn from! Thank you! I love you and have a beautiful, blessed day.**

**Sue**


	42. Kiss Me On My Shoulder

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Two**

"**Kiss Me On My Shoulder"**

**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire England**

**4****th ****January 1998**

Hermione woke up with a start and felt panic engulf her chest when she saw that her wounded husband was not there beside her anymore.

Two days ago, he looked ready to die before her, calling her name over and over again as she healed him together with the help of Snape and the healers.

He had fallen asleep on her arms, feverish and sweating profusely. He had lost too much blood and there was an incredible amount of infection in his system. Snape had given him strong antibiotics and almost all the possible potions just so he could survive.

The following day, he stayed on bed and she had looked after him. Montague and Blaise came to visit, and she was left to talk with Nesha at the other room.

He'd fallen asleep just fine when evening came, with his arms tightly tangled around her.

And now, he was gone…

"Draco?" She called as she grabbed her bathrobe to cover her nightdress and treaded softly outside their room.

When he was home, he'd usually stay inside his study so she decided to check if he was in there. He couldn't possibly go out of the manor in his condition. He could even barely move yet even if it had already been two days since the incident.

She wasn't that scared in wandering inside the manor anymore. For the past months, the manor had looked more… private.

She had noticed that the usual death-eaters at the mansion were not there anymore. She wasn't allowed to go outside the grounds any longer. When she'd look outside, she could see just how much the number of sentries had doubled. She could also see the thickness of the shield and protective bubble used around the manor grounds from her veranda. The protective bubble had incredibly been doubled that it had become powerfully visible, like a mirrored mist and miasma around the entire mansion grounds.

The manor looked more secured and tenable, like it held out that aura that it was forcefully standing in the middle of the battle grounds. One wrong move in stepping out, then you'd die in a snap.

The only death-eaters allowed inside now were mostly Draco's colleagues and classmates back at Hogwarts, the Slytherin lot, including Theo who seemed too intent on ignoring her. The older ones she'd seen before were not there anymore. When she'd look around, she could only see the younger generation of death-eaters, mostly on Draco's crowd.

Greyback and his lot were not allowed to visit anymore and Draco seemed strict about it.

Once, she heard Draco arguing with him through the floo. Draco and Greyback's groups had been hunting together before, but it was different now. Draco seemed confident of his own pack and had this competition over Greyback's lot to win the dark lord's favour. She had heard about the supremacy of Draco's leadership among his group and just how much they had become more independent and stronger than the other packs now.

She had learned about it through her talk with Nesha yesterday. Nesha told her just how much Draco's troops valued him. It even sounded like they worshipped him.

Nesha heard about it from Montague about their group's brotherhood. It seemed like a fraternity of some sort, and Draco was their protective leader. Montague had mentioned just how much their group had gotten stronger than the others. Being inside Voldemort's circle, Montague said Draco was the finest leader.

In Lucius Malfoy's assemblage, it was either you fail or die. When you're useless, you'd be thrown into a pit and get eaten by the fiends. In Greyback's pack, it was just all about the killing. Nothing mattered. It was all about brutal slaughters and bloodshed massacres. The same goes with the other groups and divisions of the leaders inside the inner circle.

But Draco's group was different. It revolved around pure loyalty, and that was the secret to its success. He just _knew_ how to hold his men. He'd send out some of his trusted men in some of the missions given by the dark lord according to their abilities. He'd send out Blaise to lead a group, sometimes Montague, and other times it was Theo. In more difficult missions, it was always Draco who led, and he always managed to escape death, somehow.

It went on like this for quite some time, until it had become the most successful among all the divisions inside the circle, even with Hermione secretly sabotaging some of their missions.

And now, it seemed that Draco wanted to separate his group from the others. Montague said that Voldemort didn't seem to mind. He was too impressed with the group's success and just how much Draco's recruits had gotten bigger than the others, his group could rival any of the groups under the heads inside the circle now and Voldemort seemed please of the fact that his missions were easily fulfilled in an instant.

At first, Hermione really thought that her husband's missions and place to the dark lord was somehow slipping since it had become more and more difficult and he'd always come home incredibly wounded and tired. The night two days ago was just the worst of it.

But talking to Nesha, she somehow realised that it was because of Draco's sudden transition of his group. He was trying to take his lot to another level, to a more, private, powerful one to gain the dark lord's favour even more.

She didn't know why, but she seemed fine about the new rules knowing that Draco hadn't been that strict with her in walking around inside any longer. He had doubled the security and the death-eaters inside the mansion were all loyal to him and he seemed confident about it.

Hermione stopped by the door to his study when she heard her husband talking. He sounded hushed and he looked really weak still. But he was standing proudly, like his wounds had just increased his dominance.

"I just need my best friend now, Blaise." She heard Draco say.

"Best friend?" Blaise snorted. "You have a new best friend. You consult to _him_, not to me."

"But you're still on with this."

"You trust _him_ too much."

"You know why."

"You're overestimating your authority, Draco! You overexert your powers too much. The dark lord approves of it, but you know that there's always a limit in everything."

"Limit?" Draco snorted mockingly. "There is no limit in my capabilities, Blaise. You've seen it. You've _witnesse_d it. I can own the world if I want to."

"You're too ambitious," Blaise tsked. "That's your downfall."

"It's because I know that I'm capable of doing it."

"_Capable_, huh? Look at what happened to you! You almost _died_, Draco. There will be more if you let this on. It's been _months_ but you've proven nothing yet."

"But I can do it. I've proven it. You've seen the outcomes."

"It's not enough."

"That's why we can't stop."

"Do you even realise what you're saying?"

"We're brothers till the end. I do not doubt your loyalty to me. I trust you, Blaise."

"Draco, you know that I'm only here because of you. I value our bond. But you're just an idiot, just so you know."

"I guess I am. But I'm powerful, and it's enough."

"You don't understand. This could _kill you_, Draco"

"I am aware of that."

His last words echoed into her head like a fiery surge.

Hermione couldn't help it any longer. Her heart was beating almost at a light's speed. She was trembling and before she knew it, she had blasted the door open.

"W-What could kill you?" She asked by the time both heads had turned around to look at her, both looking surprised but guarded. Their facial expressions were remarkably the same, it was unnerving.

"Yeah, you're very much interested in that, aren't you?" Blaise scathingly told her. "Why don't you just kill him now? I can let you borrow my wand if you want to. That's what he wants, anyway." And with that, Blaise went out of the room without a second look.

"What is he talking about?" She demanded; her voice shaking as she neared him.

He still had his bandages and some of his cuts were still very visible. But he looked incredibly calm, like he really believed that he was the most powerful man on earth. It scared her.

"You really love eavesdropping, don't you now, Princess? I can't help but notice that it had become your hobby somehow," He smiled as he kissed her. He sounded playful. He was just the most complicated person she'd ever met.

"I'm asking you a question, Draco," she said in contempt while whisking his hand away from her.

"Okay, what about… I ask you a question, then?" He smirked. "About a fairytale…"

Hermione didn't reply, so he went on. "Among the three brothers of the Peverell family in the deathly hallows, who do you think you'd rather be?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Why are you not answering?"

"It's just—"

"It's a simple question."

"The answer is obvious, isn't it? The third brother, Ignotus Peverell, of course," she sighed in annoyance. "He was the wisest to choose that cloak."

"I guess," Draco whispered before taking her waist to embrace her. "He's not as stupid as his brother Cadmus, isn't he?"

* * *

**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire England**

**22****nd ****February 1998**

It was about four in the morning when Hermione first started on feeling this crampy premenstrual feeling and back pains. She'd been feeling this for weeks now. She'd been dilated to 2 cm for a while. But today, it was more consistent and was then travelling into her lower back. She knew it was time. She tried to be calm about it, but she still felt very nervous. She had talked about this with her private medi-witch obstetrician, one of the ancient Malfoy Family healers who had been serving the family for years and who was the one who assisted on Draco's birth as well.

Draco told her that she was to deliver at home as it had been a tradition in the Malfoy family. She had no say in this matter, of course. She couldn't make any decision in this mansion. Though she was given quite the liberty, Draco still monitored everything she did, every person that would come in contact with her and every room she decided to lurk into.

Even the food served for her was first inquired to him before giving it to her. He'd been extra protective, looking very paranoid that he was becoming so unreasonable sometimes. But she knew that he would never harm her or their baby and she couldn't do anything to stop him anyway.

She frowned as another contraction hit her. It was a bit painful though not so much, just bordering from discomfort to ache, until the painful contractions occurred at regular and increasingly shorter intervals.

She was becoming more and more restless when it did so, and she was hungry and thirsty at the same time. She decided she needed to walk for a while and maybe eat something. She didn't know what to feel. She knew this was her first pregnancy and she was going to have to endure a longer labour, but she just couldn't wait to see what it would be ahead, what it would be like tonight or tomorrow when she'd finally hold her baby and cuddle her little angel to sleep.

She wobbled herself out of Draco's grip. Merlin, her belly had become _so_ heavy, and he really wasn't helping as he'd always scoop her towards him with his arm always so weighty around her gigantic belly.

"Where are you going?" He suddenly asked in a raspy voice. His eyes were still closed but he'd always sense it if she wasn't next to him, even when asleep. She didn't know how he could do that. He'd always come home late and would even only sleep an hour or two because of his missions. Sometimes, she even felt like he doesn't sleep at all.

"It's starting," she told him, grimacing a little while rubbing her belly.

It took a moment before everything sunk in. He looked remarkably calm, but she had caught his eyes widen for a fraction when she looked at him.

"Alright. I'm sending an owl to the medi-witch to make sure she'll come in the right time. How are the contractions?" He asked while kissing her temple and soothing the crease on her brows.

"It's not that painful yet, just a bit of discomfort," she told him. "And I'm a little hungry, Draco."

"Let's get you something to eat then," he smiled a little; looking a bit relieved. He rarely smiled these days, sometimes he never smiled at all. It soothed her somehow. "What do you want to eat?"

"Anything, honestly. I'm just hungry," she replied as Draco tucked a hair on her ear. She'd gotten over her bizarre appetite months ago but Draco was still very obsessed on making sure the vomiting mania she had with that Oxtail soup won't happen again.

Minutes later, she was heartily eating her favourite croque-monsieuris ham and salmon niçoise salad with kalamata inaigrette, accompanied by soupe de fraises.

Draco knew everything she wanted, gave her everything she wanted. She felt like a spoiled little girl, eating gleefully, licking her spoon and humming for an added affect. For a moment she'd forgotten about her cramps, only occasionally rubbing her belly and lower back when it would start again.

Draco ate with her, but mostly just stared at her the whole time she was eating. After their breakfast, he walked her around the mansion for a while to take her mind off from the pain. There really was no one around in the mansion these days, just a few guards here and there, so it was okay to wander. The medi-witch came in shortly and examined her, telling her that she was still on her early labour and she needed to relax and prepare herself for what was coming.

Draco joined her for a warm relaxing bath to take her mind off from the aches and pains as the medi-witch and her maidservants prepared everything that were needed. He bathed her and she let him do everything. She surrendered and leaned on the beautiful sense of protection and security he was giving her, and it felt good, rather comforting on her current condition.

He washed her thoroughly, kissing her skin and lips in the process. She didn't feel like kissing anyone at the moment but he had such an amazing mouth. She could be burning or dying and she'd still kiss him back anyway.

Their bath lasted for forever but she really didn't want to get out of the soothing water and get back on focusing on her painful cramps, which were becoming more and more persistent, so she asked Draco to walk with her again and he seemed happy to comply.

When she was too tired, they settled on staying on the bed again, with Draco's hands caressing her hair while she lied on his lap and tried to focus her attention on the book she was reading.

It had been hours of torture and next thing she knew, she had thrown the book away as she couldn't focus on anything anymore.

The medi-witch examined her again and told her she was still on her fourth dilation.

It had been too long and she was suffering. She was having regular excruciating contractions but nothing else seemed to be happening.

"It really hurts." She was starting to whine, but she just couldn't do anything. It was frustrating.

"It's okay. It will be over soon. Don't worry," Draco cooed while kissing her forehead. She wanted to cry. She didn't know why. She promised herself she wouldn't cry. The medi-witch told her it would just drain her energy and cut her oxygen supply.

She was readied and taught of breathing exercises and positions to cope with the contractions but she couldn't do it anymore. She just wanted to cry for her state, and cry because she had a husband beside her, ready to soothe and pamper her when she did so. She felt like a spoiled little brat, but damn it, she wanted to be spoiled rotten right in this moment. All she could feel was endless, excruciating _pain, _and she _deserved_ to be pampered.

She suddenly realised that Draco hadn't left yet. He would go away everyday for his missions. He was the head of his division and every day, he would report to the dark lord to confer with him all the hunts and missions he had done.

Suddenly, she was nervous. Would he go away when called? What would she do without him? How could she possibly pass this without him?

"Don't go, Draco. Please," she pleaded. She couldn't do this without him.

"I already owled Blaise. Don't worry about it, okay? He's my most trusted front man and he'll deal with the group for a while," he assured her while kissing her once again.

With that, she started crying. She was a mess. Even her emotions were becoming so chaotic. Bloody, she even wanted to embrace Blaise right now even if she hated him just for the fact that because of him, her husband was able to stay.

"Shouldn't you be giving her the potion now?" He turned to the medi-witch; anxiousness was evident in his voice even if it wasn't seen in his usual stoic face.

"No. I'm okay," Hermione moaned while shaking her head gently. She didn't want to use any potion while in the process of labour after learning that it may have a negative effect on her baby. She had discussed anesthesia options with the Malfoy medi-witch before. There were safe choices but each seemed to have negative effects even if they were rare and unlikely to happen. She just didn't want to take that risk just to ease her pain. She decided that natural childbirth was the only way to go for her and she'd do it to assure that nothing ever happened to her precious angel.

"Mione, baby, you know it's okay if you take the potion. The medi-witch said it's very safe. You're hurting too much. Just—"

"I don't want to, Draco. I'm okay. I can take the potion after the baby is born, but I don't want to take it while on labour."

"But you've been suffering for hours now and—"

"I said I don't want to!" She suddenly shouted. She didn't intend to shout, but he was getting so annoying. They had already discussed this and he told her he'd give her the choice in deciding on how she was to give birth. And damn it, it really was _that_ painful.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whimpered. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to shout at you."

"Ssh… It's okay." He was so gentle; she could feel her tears coming out rapidly once again.

"It's just really hurts."

"I know."

"I hate this."

"I know. It sucks."

"I just want to—ow! Oh merlin…"

"Let me examine you again, milady."

She turned her head into the window while being examined and was surprised of the fact that everything was dark already. Where did the whole day gone to? She felt like she'd been suffering for years. How long had it been, really?

"Still four centimeters dilated. She's not progressing," the medi-witch shook her head, looking a bit worried.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked her.

"We need to augment her labor, milord. We can't allow making her extend for more than the normal hours of a first timer to labour and she doesn't have any progress at all. Her uterus doesn't relax fully between contractions," the medi-witch explained.

"Wouldn't that increase the pain?" Draco asked, looking stressed hearing his wife's cries.

"It will increase the pain, but we need to do it. Prolonged labour causes a great hazard to the baby. How much she needs will depend on the quality of her contractions, how sensitive she is to the potion and how her cervix dilates. I won't try to rupture her sac artificially as it can risk to infection and umbilical cord compression but I'll be doing it if her labour doesn't progress from here."

"Please let my baby be okay," Hermione pleaded; her mouth already too dry because of prolonged mouth breathing. She looked too exhausted and worn out to even stop her eyes from fluttering. Her hair was too wet from her perspiration now. She looked like she just ran under a full-blast rain.

"Ssh… Princess, I won't let that happen okay? Everything's going to be fine. I promise," Draco whispered gently. Hermione smiled a little as she nodded. She trusted him. She knew he wasn't going to let anything happen to her and her baby.

Hermione had initially severe and prolonged labour pains but it had slowly decreased as her muscles were too fatigued. A few hours dragged on and there was only little progress that the medi-witch decided to go with artificially breaking her bag of water. She had asked Draco to intermittently massage his wife's nipples to help stimulate the contractions. She had increased the augmentation potion at its right amount and by then, Hermione's labour had finally started on progressing.

A few more hours of endless, excruciating torture, she was finally there.

"That's it, milady. You're complete! It's time to push. Remember what I taught you? Breathe in and out, when you feel the urge to push, place your chin to your chest, breathe in deeply and blow out as you bear down."

Hermione was too damn _tired_, she barely heard a thing. These entire lessons for months seemed to go down the drain now that she was finally in the moment. The hours of tortured labour had completely beaten her up. And she just couldn't feel the urge she was saying. Some women just had _that_ urge, but where was it now? She just felt so _exhausted_.

"Milady, you _have_ to push."

"I'm too tired. I-It hurts… Everything hurts… please make it stop. Please, Draco. Make it stop," she cried, pleading in endless agony as she squeezed her husband's hand.

"You can do it, princess. Just a little more time, okay? Just breathe with me. Come on…"

"I c-can't. Please make it stop! Please, Draco. It hurts too much."

Draco didn't know what to do. He looked frustrated as he turned to the older woman. "Do _something_!" He shouted at the medi-witch, who looked too scared of him now. He felt too helpless. His heart was breaking for his wife.

"Milord, she needs to—"

"Just fucking do anything! She's hurting! Give her that damn potion!"

"I can't, milord. It could suppress the augmentation and—"

"I don't care! Just do _something_!"

"But—"

"Fuck! Do your job! Make it stop!"

It was when the door suddenly burst out, with a very anxious and disheveled Blaise Zabini.

"What the—" The Italian man almost passed out to what he was currently witnessing.

"Blaise! What the_ fuck _are you doing here? Get out!"

"I need to talk to you, Draco." Blaise walked nearer, trying his best to stay as far away from the screaming and crying woman on labour. "This is urgent."

"I have no fucking time for any of it! Can't you see my wife is giving birth? Dammit, get out!"

"You don't understand. It's Crabbe. He's the traitor. This whole charade is _over_. Our group is hunting him now but he's protected by his side," he told him gravely. "You need to go and explain, Draco. They're giving you a _chance_."

"Dracooo!" Hermione cried, trying her hardest to push, she was turning purple. Draco could swear his hand could break in a second.

"I-I can't go, Blaise," he uttered while turning his attention to his beseeching wife. Her breathing was too ragged and she was fighting for consciousness to keep on pushing for their baby.

"This is important, Draco! She'll be okay. She has your medi-witch whereas if you can't show up, the allegations aimed at you will be confirmed and sooner or later, your head will be hanging on that bloody prison cell!"

"You know I can't go!"

"It will be over for you, for _this_, if you won't!"

"Tell them to wait."

"This _can't_ wait. You're wanted _now_," Blaise nearly tore his face out in frustration.

"Do what you can. I trust you, Blaise. You know I can't leave Hermione now."

"You _choose. _Leave her now and see her later, or stay with her now and die to leave her and your child forever," Blaise' tone was too serious; its intensity was louder than Hermione's screams.

"P-Please don't leave. P-Please don't leave me…" Hermione looked delirious now but she was fighting so hard to push her baby out. She barely heard what Blaise was saying. Her child's life was more important right in this moment. She kept on breathing and pushing, not letting go of Draco's hand as she did.

"I'm not leaving her, Blaise. It's final and you can't make me."

"You'll regret this when you're buried six feet below the ground, Draco. But don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, Blaise was gone.

Everything was a rush. Hermione didn't know the implications to what Blaise just said, the only thing that was going on inside her mind was to never let go of Draco's hand and to push harder for her baby.

Everything was a blur. Everything went too fast, and incredibly, painfully slowed at the same time. Everything was too loud, or maybe it was just her. All she knew was that she needed to fight for her baby's life and she needed Draco to be there next to her.

"Your next contraction is coming up, milady. And I need you to bear down and _push_!"

When she finally felt the urge, Hermione pushed like she'd never pushed in her entire life, she felt her nerves almost popping out but she couldn't give up.

Finally, she felt that burning and stretching sensation, like her body was tearing in two, like someone had held both her thighs from each side to tear her whole body apart.

The feeling was… miraculous.

There was this pressure that had numbed everything. Everything was just stretching, like she was _literally_ tearing apart but she wasn't. It felt inexplicably grand, she had to cry.

And then… someone was crying with her.

It was a very tiny little voice, but it was there.

"Congratulations, milady, milord. It's a boy," the medi-witch announced happily as she handed the little angel in front of his exhausted mother after the umbilical cord of the baby was cut.

Hermione was too worn out to move a single muscle but the little, squirming creature right in front of her gave her enough energy to do so.

The little thing had the shortest legs, the littlest hands, the smallest distended torso with a shock of downy blond hair sticking into its squirming head, with a few traces of greasy white substance on his reddish to pinkish skin… but he was perfect.

He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her entire life.

Draco was on her side, staring dumbly at the baby on his wife's arms. He hadn't uttered a thing and just stared at the little creature, tentatively holding its wriggling little feet.

Hermione looked up and smiled tiredly at him.

She'd _never_ seen him look that way. His lips were unconsciously, slightly opened and his grey eyes were in their lightest of hue. A small smile was tugging along the side of his lips as he watched their little son, squirming and struggling to latch over his mother's breast.

Hermione leaned into her husband as the medi-witch finally gave her the potion and cleaned her birth canal.

She fought for consciousness for a bit, never wanting to tear her gaze away from her little angel, who had now started to suck hungrily on her nipple.

She couldn't look away. She wanted to stay there, to the little family they now had.

She was holding her baby as her husband kissed her temple gently, supporting her body, with his arms intertwined to help her support the squirming little squirt.

"I love you," he suddenly whispered, and for a moment there, she thought she heard his voice crack a bit.

"I love you too." She barely heard herself whisper, but she did. She could feel the tears coming down her eyes as they finally fluttered close.

She was glad she never did let go.

He had stayed for her. No matter what, she'd never forget that he had stayed for her.

For that, she could pretend everything was okay in this world.

For a little while, just for a little while… for this _moment_ alone, there was no war, her husband wasn't a death-eater and everything was normal. Blaise didn't say those words just moments ago. And she was in their home with her little family.

She had never felt this kind of happiness and she was willing to trade _everything_ just to freeze this moment. She could die by keeping this, but she would never let go. People may judge but she would let them. She didn't care. No one ever knew the amount of bliss and sense of fulfillment she'd felt in this moment, and she could be selfish for once just to keep this.

She'd do everything to hold on to the little family they now had. This was her life now, and she was willing to accept it just to keep _this_.

For the first time in a long while, Hermione allowed herself to sleep peacefully with a smile on her lips, a husband holding her and a healthy little baby boy happily feeding on her breast.

As she felt her husband lovingly kiss her on her shoulder, she knew she was home…

This wasn't exactly the happy ending she wished to have, but it was better than anything this world could ever offer.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Arms" by Christina Perri**

* * *

**A/N**

**This is **_**not**_** the ending yet, of course, just to clear that up. :D **

**I have never been pregnant, but I'm a registered nurse and I'm assigned at the ob-gyn department of the hospital for about eight months now, my first ever employment after graduating from University. I'm not working in the labour and delivery unit and I'm assigned on post-partum, antepartum and gynecology cases as it's separated from the labour and delivery unit, so I'm not an expert to the giving birth period, but I had my fair share of experiences from pregnant mothers so I hope I have written some facts quite okay. **

**Aaand… sorry that this chapter is late than the usual updates I have, but I got really mixed reviews from the latest chapter I posted and I feel like I should think about and reflect on what's wrong and what's not in this story. Chapter 41 was probably the chapter that gave me the highest "high" and the lowest "low". **

**Some said that it was the best chapter out of all the chapters in this story because of the emotions portrayed by each party.**

**Some said I don't give any POV for Draco and I'm not being even with him, but truly, I'm sorry but I can't give you guys any POV from Draco **_**yet**_**. Because, trust me, it will ruin the whole story. As I've said, I'm already done with some scenes. I've even made and dedicated a **_**whole**_** chapter (in which I will publish in the right time) for Draco **_**alone**_**, but right now, for the sake of the story (and that future chapter), I can't rush anything.**

**Some said that I'm too slow with the pace of my story because I keep on filling it with description of the character's emotions, and I truly, truly understand what the reviews are trying to tell me. I'll try my hardest to somehow lessen those, but I think it's just **_**me**_**, you know, it's just the way I write and I think this is one thing that I really can't change any longer. **

**I've always been fascinated with words, with every gesture, every emotion, and every bit of sensation and passion that is there to bring out. Ask me what I feel about a droplet from the rain and I can give you two pages about it. Even when I was younger, during a test or so, I've always had problems with some questions that needed to be answered in just 2-3 sentences or something like that because I always answer more than necessary. Sometimes, I think my teachers were just too tired to read my "novel-like" answers and they just gave me good grades without reading them any longer. But you know, it hurts sometimes to know that each word wasn't given importance because, honestly, they all came from **_**me**_** and I've given time for it. **

**Well, my point is, I can't please everybody and I can't change my writing style any longer. Some people may love it, some may be annoyed of my slow pace, some may hate it, but it's just the way I write. Everybody writes differently, I guess. The whole point of writing is that it makes **_**me**_** happy, and I feel like I can inspire someone, even just a single person because of it.**

**But I guess I'll try to get the pace moving, but only just a bit, because I **_**honestly**_** can't. I have everything planned already. These are not filler chapters because I'm out of plot or something. These are chapters that **_**support**_** something that is very major in my later chapters. Every small gesture is meant to support something bigger. **

**I have the scenes readied. I have the blueprints on my ragged, almost torn notebook and papers. And **_**yes**_**, I even have the ending already. But I just **_**can't **_**make everything faster. It's just the way I am, and I really don't think I can change that. But still, thank you for pointing these all out. I'll keep that in mind and I learn a lot from the reviews and I **_**truly**_**, **_**truly**_** appreciate them. :) Please don't be afraid to voice them out because I listen to them by heart, and I think things through because of them. And I'm really grateful that you guys are taking the time to help me improve. :)**

**Now, I have to voice another thing out. The persons whom I've anonymously stated above gave me **_**constructive **_**criticisms and I'm very thankful for it. Constructive criticism is good. It's important and I want to read them because I learn a lot from them. **

**But there's just such a **_**big difference **_**between constructive criticisms to **_**an insult**_**. **

**This one person who **_**really hates**_** this story sent me a review that has nothing but pure hatred (with his/her sentences on capital letters). He/she wasn't logged in, which frustrates me because I can't defend myself because he/she doesn't even have a proper name, with only a pen name: "hate this", for that matter. If you hate this story so much, please don't be a coward and **_**log in**_** so I can properly defend myself. **

**Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion and I greatly respect that, but there is a line between giving your own opinion to hurting someone in the process. I love what I do and you don't have the right to break me with such hatred. It seems a bit personal and I don't even know you, you even have to write them in capital letters. **

**Even the people I know in real life don't do this to me. I'm not perfect at all, but you don't have the right to insult me at all because I am human as well. Or at least, if you hate this story so much, **_**log in**_** and tell me **_**all **__**the reasons **__**why**_**, and I'll try so hard to listen to you. Maybe it personally affected you in a negative way to detest it so much, or maybe you just really hate it to the core, but at least tell me **_**all**_** the reasons why or at least **_**log in**_** so I can message you and defend my **_**"idiot"**_** Hermione.**

**What touched me the most is the person who messaged me and I almost cried reading it because I honestly was a bit down after reading that anonymous review. To ****ChloeDracoMalfoy**** (who has a **_**name**_** and is **_**logged in**_**), thank you so much for the private message. She sent me a message about her reaction when she saw that review filled with hatred from that anonymous person. She messaged me to say that thousands of people are disagreeing with that anonymous person and that it shouldn't put me down. She encouraged me to write and gave me back some of the confidence I lost to continue this story. And with that, I'm truly thankful. **

**I won't stop writing because of it and I don't think anyone could ever make me stop writing, anyway. I've been writing since I was a little girl and it's already a part of me. **

**I know I can't stop other people from hating it, but I just know that somewhere out there, even if maybe they're not that many, but some people read my works and they love it and I take comfort to that. :)**

**Thank you to everyone who gives their time to read and review this story, each one of you gives me the push to write and update and thank you very much. I really appreciate it. :)**

**Love and kisses,**

**Sue**


	43. Beneath the Sheets of Stained Glasses

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Three**

"**Beneath the Sheets of Stained Glasses"**

"_She didn't need to understand the meaning of life; it was enough to find someone who did, and then fall asleep in his arms and sleep as a child sleeps, knowing that someone stronger than you is protecting you from all evil and all danger."__  
__―__Paulo Coelho_

**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire England**

**4th ****June 1998**

"Oh… Here it is, Ceph! You see, baby? That's your constellation. It's an October constellation but it's visible all year in our hemisphere, even in June," Hermione smiled sweetly at little Cepheus, who was giggling and clapping his tiny hands together while wobbly sitting on Draco's protective lap. Being on his fourth month, he could lie on his tummy now and support himself on his elbows, but he liked being around his daddy's protective arms more.

They were currently outside the veranda, enjoying the beauty of the stars with the optical telescope brought by Draco from the Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment at the North Side of Diagon Alley as a present for his wife.

Hermione had always loved the constellations, but with their sweet little Cepheus, she had been extra engrossed on the subject knowing that their little baby's name came from a constellation, just like that of Draco's.

Cepheus Ladon Malfoy was a very beautiful baby, with the most stunning steel blue-grey irises that sometimes change into the colour of the Caribbean ocean. Sometimes, it was comparable to the change of the colour of the sky, to rainy to sunny and then back again.

Little Cepheus had the softest of blond hair sticking in different directions. It was straight, but quite unruly, especially when he'd just wake up. It reminded Hermione of her own stubborn hair when she was younger.

And he was just _so_ _soft_ and _so_ _warm _and _so pulpy_… like the softest of pillows and cotton balls that wobbled and squirmed here and there.

She loved him to bits. Sometimes, she'd just hug and kiss him and place him close to her heart. She'd been quite exhausted for the past months, with Cepheus claiming all her time. He could be such a possessive baby who wanted his mother to always stay next to him and cuddle him every time.

He always wanted her to kiss him, or tickle him or just carry and embrace him into her arms. She could always give the work to her maidservants, but little spoiled Cepheus would screech and cry whenever he'd realise that she wasn't there next to him anymore.

Sometimes, he really reminded her of Draco, but then again he was his son, a spitting image, even.

And no matter what, he just really made her smile. He was her everything.

He'd laugh and squirm on her arms. He'd always squeal in delight whenever he was given something he wanted, or just saw something very interesting. He loved being tickled as well. He would reach for things here and there and he was very fascinated in watching his hands move.

He liked being in his daddy's protective arms all the time, but he loved his mummy's gentle kisses the most. He would turn his head towards her and would watch her intently when she'd speak to him as if he really understood what she's saying, like her words were the most important sounds in the world. He made her feel more than special.

He loved placing anything on his mouth as well; leaving Hermione to patiently monitor everything he did to make sure he was always safe. He loved to play with hand-held rattles and some Dragon figures Draco brought for him.

He was quite a handful, but he was a happy, healthy baby boy. And she'd do _anything _for him.

He was their little king.

His name was given by Draco himself. It was derived from the constellation in the northern sky. Cepheus is a genitive of Cephei, which meant _King_. Upside down, the constellation Cepheus could be interpreted as a king with a crown. Draco told her that their son would be great like a king and his name suited him best.

"We'll find daddy's constellation on July as it crosses the meridian, okay? It's beautiful, you'll see. Daddy's constellation is the guardian of the celestial pole which is the star that never moves," she explained lovingly as she took Cepheus from Draco's lap and held him tenderly into her arms.

The little tot squeaked and giggled into her arms, grasping some of his mother's bouncy curls and playing with them with his little fingers. She kissed him warmly before gently swaying him with her. She knew that little Cepheus loved swinging while in her arms.

A few minutes later, little Cepheus' eyes fluttered close as his cheek lay contentedly on his mother's shoulder, squashed like a fluffy cotton candy, while his whole body stuck like a spider into her chest. Hermione smiled and hummed him a lullaby as she continued to stare at the starry night of June.

Draco was still seated at the side, not taking his gaze away from his wife and their son. He had a small pensive smile on his face, like he was trying to prolong and stash this moment for his memory. It was in times like these that made Hermione suddenly nervous of the implications of that thoughtful gaze.

Every day, their time together was starting to slip away… _He_ was slipping away.

She just… knew.

She didn't know why but it felt like they were counting the days they had left together, like there was an imperceptible hourglass in a three-legged stand just behind them. She wanted to flip it, to replay over and over again the times they had each other, but it seemed stuck in that place and they couldn't do a thing about it.

It was the very thing they never discussed. But Hermione just _knew_, sooner or later, he'd go away and disappear, like those beautiful petals she'd seen in spring but now were nothing more but a memory, buried nonexistent somewhere.

It was the quintessence of Draco. He was her beautiful fading flower, the last among the others.

And he was just slipping away, turning yellow to russet to grey of ashes until it was one with the wind; until it was gone.

"Tomorrow's your birthday, Draco," she finally spoke as she looked down to stare at him, balancing the sleeping Cepheus on her arms. "I was hoping you can stay, you know. And we can have dinner together with Cepheus. I'll ask my maidservants to serve your favourite dishes. You're always away everyday and I… I was hoping that maybe… maybe, you can stay with us tomorrow, you know. Maybe ask Blaise or Montague or Theo about it and—"

"I'll try," he replied calmly, cutting her off.

"Why can't you promise me?" She sounded hurt. But she had expected his answer anyway.

Draco had stayed with her for about a week after she gave birth to Cepheus. She found his presence assuring and took comfort with it. But she couldn't help but question why he'd _never_ took a step out of the manor grounds. She had this tingling feeling on just how much it just wasn't because she just gave birth and he wanted to be with her, it was more on the fact that he _couldn't_ step out of the manor without foolishly dying.

Just a week after, Blaise sent him a letter, stating that he needed to go in a certain undisclosed place to settle and regain his name. She couldn't understand why but she just knew he was in trouble.

She cried and begged him to stay. She didn't know why she couldn't stop crying that day when he finally told her that the mission was too important to miss and that he needed to go. She didn't want him to go out. She didn't want him to step out of the protective barrier of the manor grounds. The worst thing was that, _she didn't know why._

She was left crying, with Cepheus crying on her arms with her when he went away.

Her little baby was the only one who had ever kept her alive during those months. Draco had never written a single letter to her. Snape explained that his godson couldn't do it especially that his group was facing such a crucial mission to even consider such trifling things such as writing a letter.

He told her that they were sent by Voldemort to accomplish a certain mission in order to prove their loyalty and worth in the domination and they just couldn't fuck it up. One wrong move and everything would be over.

"_Just stay, child. Don't do anything foolish and… just stay. That's all that's ever asked of you," Snape told her._

"_Professor, if you can just honestly tell me what's going on, then maybe I can—"_

"_Just stay."_

Hermione honestly didn't understand any of the repercussions for that matter. She felt like a blind beggar, crossing a street, with nothing but her ears to rely on to listen whether or not there was a truck along the way.

She'd never seen her friend Nesha as well.

Blaise, Montague and Theo never went to the manor. Snape told her that they were needed by Draco in this particular mission, so that also meant that she'd never seen or talk to her friend as Montague was not there anymore to bring her along.

She felt imprisoned and trapped once again, and every night, when Cepheus was fast asleep, she'd wear Draco's shirt and lie on her back until she'd fall asleep.

Hermione gave all her time and energy in taking care of Cepheus, who always demanded all of her time, anyway. Without her little angel, she honestly thought she had already gone insane.

She'd been miserable for months and every night, she was plagued by thoughts on whether or not she would be able to see her husband again, or if her child could even have someone to call his father.

For some people, it might be a gift, a blessing even, to see Draco Malfoy die.

He was the one who opened the way of the death-eaters to enter Hogwarts. If seen closer, he might even be the one to start this war. He was the murderer of Dumbledore, Voldemort's apprentice and the leader of one of the most notorious trackers and hunters of muggles and muggleborns. He was this dangerous criminal who, above all, just deserved a kiss in Azkaban. There was just no chance for him anymore.

But he was her husband; he was the father of her child, her first love, her first kiss…

She was never known to be this selfish and irrational. But everything she felt just disagreed with her mind, her scruples… her _conscience_.

Draco went home about three months after, with her wildly running and shamelessly jumping into his arms the very first time he appeared by their bedroom door. She had just finished nursing Cepheus and had already placed him to sleep on the cot next to their bed.

Little Cepheus had the grandest of nursery next door, which was already prepared for months while he was inside his mother's womb. But Hermione asked her maidservants to take his cot from the nursery and place it beside her bed when Draco went away. Cepheus was the only one who made her smile during her months of endless worry.

But right in that moment, when her husband appeared by their bedroom door, it was all about seeing him, feeling him, smelling him. It was all about _him_… She missed him too much, she was reeling from the sensations his scent alone had elicited in her.

Seconds later, they were hastily pulling at each other's clothes, breaking those unwanted barriers, ripping them apart to acquire the unbidden pleasure they craved from each other. He had literally ripped open the cotton fabric of her nightdress, exposing her bigger, ample breasts into his lustful eyes and throwing the ruined clothing into the floor.

They haven't had any sex since Hermione had given birth to Cepheus, with Draco being too careful about her wellbeing in the first week he had stayed with her. The medi-witch had been particular of the fact that childbirth was a traumatic process for a woman and it could take weeks for everything to heal up.

But then he needed to leave her after that week. He'd been gone for three months and it was too much for him to endure. Hermione was his luscious, beguiling drug, the only remedy for his insanity and he just really needed her.

She surrendered everything to him that night. It hurt a bit after not having him inside her for so long and from the soreness of her healing core when he slammed himself home. But it had all elapsed by the time she had accommodated his length inside her.

They were just too perfect for each other. She couldn't believe just how much she had missed this feeling of being completely whole with him. It got her eyes rolling while screaming in endless, drugging ecstasy, bridging to almost painful desperation.

She cried when she came, almost passing out from the powerful, mind-boggling sensation that stirred through her womb. She was delirious and tingling from the passion they just shared that vibrated and rocked her whole body into seventh heaven.

Lightheaded and incredibly still on the aftermath of her explosive climax, she watched him limply with her fluttered, hazy eyes as he continued to desperately pump in and out of her.

While he moved like that, he was beautiful… He was a work of art.

He didn't last long after her, despite his painful, agonizing effort to prolong everything. He'd been denied for far too long and with a feral growl, he had soaked her with everything in him.

They lay on bed after, spent, panting and breathless, still delirious and feverish from one of the quickest but most fulfilling sex they ever had, not even noticing the piercing cry of little Cepheus from his cot, from obviously being awaken by his parents' shameless, thunderous mating.

With wobbly knees, Draco stood up and took Cepheus from his cot to hand him over to his still slightly panting mother. She sat up and took the crying babe into her arms as she cooed her gentle apology to her only son for waking him up.

Draco kissed the both of them and watched over them while they slept.

She felt the safest that night, like nothing could ever harm her. It's funny how she could feel that way to a murderer. But then again, he could _kill_ just to keep his little family safe.

"You know the nature of my work, Hermione," he told her.

"But I-I just thought that maybe you can spare a day to be with us, you know. Just a day, Draco… please," she whispered pleadingly as she stepped closer to sit on his lap, with little Cepheus still sleeping soundly on her chest. They fitted well together, like they were carved and made that way from the start. Each outline, slope and elevation among their bodies just fitted so well, it was nonsensically beautiful.

Draco gave a heavy sigh as he placed his head on his wife's shoulder, rubbing her back in soft, gentle circles. He looked really _tired_.

"You know I can't promise anything, Princess. We have something very important to do tomorrow and—"

Both their heads suddenly turned around when they heard the glass door from their veranda squeak slightly and Gertrude, one of Hermione's maidservants, fretfully entered the door.

"I-I'm very sorry, milord," she bowed tensely. "But Master Nott and Master Zabini are here to talk to you. They say it's urgent. They are waiting at the foyer."

"It's always urgent," Hermione stated sadly as she stood up and stepped away from her husband, kissing the sleeping little Cepheus on her arms before turning away to look at the starry night once again.

Draco didn't say anything but just stood up to kiss her temple before walking away.

"It's always like this, isn't it, Ceph?" Hermione whispered softly into her sleeping baby by the time Draco went away.

When will this ever end?

And if it did, would she still have her husband with her?

She just wanted a normal life, a simple one; with her, Draco and Cepheus together.

But it seemed only like a dream somehow. And she was becoming too selfish and greedy for living in this kind of delusion.

She was _deceiving_ herself. She was deceiving her baby, who needed her the most.

And she just wanted to _know_, wanted to see through the lies and mendacity she kept on feeding herself with.

Sometimes, when she was alone with Cepheus, she wondered whether or not she had made the right choice of staying with Draco; if she had made it for her baby, or for _herself_. Would people judge her? Do they have the right to condemn her for being too selfish? Is it really that spiteful to love a murderer?

Every day, she was haunted by thoughts of her baby's future, even by thoughts of the people back home, of Harry, Ron, Adrian and the Order, of her parents back home, living normally and being _deceived_ once again, still faithfully thinking that she was staying at Hogwarts when it was actually a ruined mess now. What would they even feel that after their memories had been played for so long; this time, it was their own daughter who was deceiving them?

And what about Ginny? She had promised to avenge her death. But what was she doing now? She had forgotten all about it because of the love that she could just never let go of.

She was becoming too selfish, too depraved, and it wasn't truly her.

But she just couldn't stop kissing him, couldn't stop touching him. She just needed him to _breathe _out for her so she could _inhale_ him, everything of him.

Selfishness is a sin, but it could be her only sin just so she could continue to love.

She could feed her mind with endless, intoxicating lies just so her heart could continue to pump blood for her to live.

She needed to continue committing a sin just to survive.

And it was undoubtedly shameful.

She had heard it, loud and clear, from everyone that Draco was building his own regime. They said that it was initially to please Voldemort. But then now, it seemed that he was starting to get carried away by the possibilities he had planted.

He was deluded by the fact that he was _that_ powerful. He was capable of something great, enough to be one of Voldemort's men inside the inner circle, but it seemed that he still wanted _more_.

But what about her sweet, little Cepheus? Even his name haunted her. He was named a _king_. What was that supposed to mean? Was Draco trying to build his own empire so he could pass it on to his only son? Would he take him away from her to train him to be like him? To become a murderer?

Hermione shook her head as she held her baby closer.

No.

She couldn't let that happen.

She could _kill_ just to protect her baby. No one, not even Draco, could ever taint her baby's innocence. He was the only good in this world and she would do _everything_ just to ensure that he'd stay that way.

She was in such a muddled mess, it was ridiculous.

She felt her body turn around to walk out of their bedroom. She held into little Cepheus tighter, feeling the security of his warmth as she felt her heart rally through her chest.

She could hear them arguing through the foyer as she tiptoed down the stairs to get closer, with little Cepheus still sleeping contentedly on her chest.

Draco always hated it every time she'd lurk around like this, but he'd never really done a thing about it, sometimes he'd just scold her off but then that was all. So, like a spoiled little child, she'd do it again anyway.

"Are you certain that the shields are strong enough?" She heard Draco spoke through the balustrade going to the vestibule. He sounded so calm, but she just knew it was all a pretense. He was turned slightly to look intently at Theo.

"It's not a problem," Theo replied. "Our problem is—"

"Just tell me that the shields are strong enough, Theo," Draco uttered irately while pressing his fingers along the bridge of his nose like he was having a terrible headache.

"I'm very sure. We have conjured it to the highest limit. It protects the boundaries of the _whole_ manor grounds. Nothing and no one can break in without dying," Theo told him with assurance.

"You know I have a son and a wife inside. They can't take them."

"I am aware."

"I need another week, Theo. Did you tell them that?"

"Yes, I did."

"Good."

"But I didn't say they agreed on it."

"What do you mean?"

"It can't wait anymore," Theo confessed in a voice that felt like an apology for a letdown.

"What about just another day?"

"You have to go tomorrow," Theo resolutely affirmed.

"Not even a fucking day? You're useless when it comes to finding the middle ground," Draco looked quite incensed as he started to pace around the room.

"Crabbe is dead," Blaise suddenly declared, making Draco's attention to focus on him. He was standing near the settee, looking like he was carrying the world on his shoulders.

"Our group finally found him?"

"No."

"Then who killed him?" Draco sounded disturbed now. It seemed as if all the news from his front men were not lying into his favour.

"They did," Theo stated coldly, bitterly.

"He needed to die. He needed to pay for his betrayal. But I thought it was going to be our lot to end his life. I just can't believe that they'd kill him after his service, after turning his back on us just for them, bloody hypocrites," Draco shook his head in what looked like melancholy and disbelief.

"He was our friend, one of us, our brother," Blaise whispered desolately.

"But he is foolish. Draco gave him the choice but he wouldn't listen. He is better off dead now. That's his lesson learned," Theo told Blaise frostily.

"Shut the fuck up. I was not talking to you," Blaise scoffed. The air was thick of the extreme dislike the two men obviously felt for each other.

"Is there any way that I can postpone the trip?" Draco asked Theo, ignoring the raging Italian by the side. "I'm just asking for a day here. Surely you can do that?"

"No. You know how crucial this is, Draco," Theo told him seriously.

Silence…

"I will ensure the wards before I go," Draco finally nodded.

"It's unassailable. Trust me," Theo assured him.

"I know," Draco nodded. "I just want my family safe above all."

"Yeah, because you trust him more than you trust me," Blaise jeered in unadulterated disgust as he stared at Theo as if his stare alone could slice him to death.

"You happen to hate Hermione," Theo said, pointing out the obvious.

"And what? You happen to _love_ her?" Blaise spat.

"I happen to know that she has a child to protect." Theo looked composed, despite the fact that he had placed his hands inside his pockets and had slightly looked down when Draco turned to study his expression.

"Yeah, so you can fuck her when Draco's not around," Blaise said in disdain. "She's a slut after all. She—"

"_Silence!_" Draco suddenly shouted, which made little Cepheus' eyes flutter open due to the noise.

Next thing they knew, a piercing cry was heard all over the extensive room, echoing in all directions.

"Ssh… it's okay, baby," Hermione whispered nervously as she stepped back to run away and hide into her room, but not until Draco turned around to face her. She was caught eavesdropping _again_.

"Well, there you go. She loves to lurk around, like a little wanton whore who's—"

"One more sound from your bloody mouth, you're dead, Blaise," Draco spat before striding towards his wife. Hermione gasped when he had harshly towed her by the waist to lead her away from his companions. She stole one last glance at Theo, but he was too determined not to look back.

"How many times do I need to tell you not to prowl around like that?" He shouted at her by the time they entered their room, shutting the door too hard that its edges almost collapsed because of the unwanted force.

"You never tell me anything! What do you expect?" Hermione shouted back as she got away from his painful grip, holding the crying Cepheus nearer to her to ease his piercing cries.

"Why can't you just let it go? I'm doing everything to protect you and my son!"

"You kill people _every day_ that it seems like a hobby to you! Why should I even trust you?" She argued back, trying her hardest to comfort and shush the crying tot on her arms by gently bobbing him up and down.

"You don't know what you're saying," he told her angrily, looking like he was about to just rip open anything and was doing his best to control his temper.

"I don't know _anything_! That's what it is!" She shouted in frustration. "Because you just can't tell me _anything_!"

"You don't have to know anything," he stated flatly. "You're just my wife."

If Cepheus wasn't struggling and crying so hard on her arms, she really would have had slapped her jerk of a husband.

"I'm _just_ your _wife_? Is that it?" She yelled hurtfully at him.

"Yes, and by now I'm assuming that you already know your place," Draco scolded her like she was a mindless child. "I am doing this for my honour, Hermione, for your protection, for our son!"

"So that's just it? You'll just kill people continually just so you can keep your precious _honour_? And you'll make Cepheus be like you too?" She cried, stepping away from him while hunching her shoulders together like a cocoon around her crying baby as if it could help protect him from the malevolence of his father.

"He's my bloody son! My flesh and my blood! And I know that when he grows old, he'll do the same thing. He'll understand. He'll do this for us, for _you_."

"_Don't you dare!_" Hermione screamed as she continued stepping away from him, like he was infected by some deadly disease. "Don't you dare use me or _your son_ to justify your disgusting actions!"

"Without my _disgusting_ actions, none of us is even breathing at this moment!"

"No! Without you, Hogwarts might have had the chance to survive! Dumbledore would have been alive and the people you shamelessly killed might have lived for their families!"

This had completely set the place into inexorable destruction. Last thing they knew, Draco had snatched an antique porcelain cornucopia and had brutally hurled it into the wide pristine stained glass adorning a wide space of the bedroom, making its shards of glasses to rain inside like an atrocious hailstorm.

Cepheus cried harder and Hermione needed to shield him from the fine pieces shooting in each direction. She had been quite near the collision and her arms and cheeks were reached by the launching shards of glasses while she was protectively covering her son, making some parts of her skin to be sliced in diminutive patterns.

The wounds from the glasses weren't that serious and she had only bled through the small cuts, some just gave her skin a bit of a reddish taint, but she was still hurt.

"H-Hermione!" Draco was too shocked of the outcome that his current action just made. Whenever he was too angry, he'd snap into this monster who just wanted to destroy _anything_. But he had never hurt or touched her, throwing his urges into guiltless objects instead.

Right now, however, she was standing there, trembling and crying while holding her baby protectively into her chest. There were some cuts on her arms, and a small slash on her left cheek, with the oozing blood mixing with her hurtful tears.

He knew her wounds were caused by an accident and he didn't know she was that close to the stained glass at the first place, but he couldn't help but think just how much he'd really gone too far this time.

She was right.

Maybe he really was just a monster. Maybe he really had no chance at all.

"Hermione… Princess, I—"

"Get away from me!" She shook in terror, stepping back until she hit the wall and collapsed in the corner, holding her crying baby in a protective stance.

"Y-You're hurt. Hermione, love, let me see it. Please," he pleaded, looking like the most tormented person in the world as he crouched next to her to examine her cuts.

When he tried to reach her, she recoiled away, looking too scared and wounded but incredibly defensive as she sheltered her crying baby into her arms.

That act alone killed him.

He couldn't even touch her without her shaking in fear. He swallowed the lump on his throat as he took his wand and petered out the pieces of glasses sticking on her hair and clothing. He did another wave over her cuts, magically stitching and closing them, leaving only small traces of reddish stains and painful hints of the damage that occurred.

He examined her worriedly, as well as the crying baby on her arms, making sure that Cepheus wasn't hurt as well.

"I won't hurt you. I will _never_ hurt you or Cepheus. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, princess. I'm so sorry," he whispered desperately, as if begging her to understand the very act he, himself, couldn't even comprehend.

Hermione flinched away even more, looking too scared to even look at him or push him away when he held her together with their crying baby.

He was raised and had grown up under his vicious father's rage. Whenever he did something wrong, Lucius would drag him to the dungeons just to punish him until the blood on his back would dry up. His father would let him take his shirt off and whip his back for hours and he had to endure it without crying or asking for help. His father hated it whenever he'd cry, and that would mean doubling-up the force and hours of torture if he ever did so.

For years, Draco had swallowed and ingested that fact as if it belonged to the normalcy of life, until those hours of tortures had completely numbed him from the pain.

Children were taught to always speak the truth. Draco was an honest child once. He'd often feel guilty and tell the truth whenever he'd accidentally break something. But then, later on, he realised that it wouldn't take him anywhere except to that dingy, dark dungeon. And so he learned to tell lies, to cheat, to embrace the idea that he's allowed to do anything just as long as he wasn't caught.

And now look where it had gotten him. He was just a full grown monster. And he wouldn't wish this to ever happen to his child and wife, to the little family he had strived so hard to achieve.

He may never have the chance anymore, but Cepheus did.

He could kill and torture people, but he would never touch his family. He would never be like his father. He would never let Cepheus step in the road that he had taken.

"I love you. I love you… _Please_, I'm so sorry," He whispered over and over again as he kissed her hair and their son's sopping, wet cheek. Little Cepheus stopped crying when Draco gently took him and swayed him gently into his arms.

He sat with her on the floor, cradling little Cepheus on his right shoulder while holding her on his left, by his heart, staring at the shards of what was once a beautiful image in a stained glass.

Stained glasses…

They are beautiful, but in reality are just composed of small sheets of dyed and painted pieces… strips, and when alone is nothing but a piece of glass that could hurt, stab, _kill_.

There were shattered pieces that looked dark and too gloomy, there were the lighter hues. But when mixed together, they could flawlessly make an image.

When hit and perfected by light, they made such a beautiful lie.

They sweeten the blow.

But now that they were gone and shattered, all that was seen by the window was the darkness of the night and the cold wind of the rented hour.

And then, right there, beneath the pages of deceitfulness, lies and brutality was Draco and Hermione, sitting on the floor with their little angel.

The room was a chaos; the floor was a mess with broken pieces of what was once a beautiful stained glass beneath the room's walls.

The wind of the night of June crept in to whisper sweet, lingering lullabies at the two lovers by the floor, being watched curiously by their wobbly, squirming son whose life only revolved around their destructive lives.

He still had small hiccups from his previous crying. He wriggled and raised his hand on his father's cheek before turning towards his mother, raising both his hands and waiting for her to take him back into her arms.

When she did so, Cepheus squeaked and giggled in endless mirth, even with stains of still dirty, dried tears on his tubby cheeks.

For little Cepheus, everything was just beautiful and funny.

For little Cepheus, everything was okay again.

For little Cepheus, he had the best place, the best parents, the best life…

But like a stained glass, it was all a lie.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Never Grow Up" by Taylor Swift (I love this song so much and I dedicate it to our sweet, little Cepheus.)**

**A/N **

**In each chapter, I'm jumping on time here, so don't forget to take notes of the timelines I write. :) Also, I've placed little Cepheus' picture at my "Almost Perfect, Almost Yours" album at Photobucket. The picture looks like he's already on his 8th month or something, but I can't help it. I have to find a little picture depicting him, even in the future. I love him even if I only made him up in my imagination. You can find it at my profile. :)**

**And thank you sooo much for your words of encouragement! I really appreciate them. You guys are amazing, esp. those who gave me PMs. Thank you so much! It means a lot to me. God bless and I hope you like this chapter. **

**Love, Sue **


	44. Happy Birthday, Draco

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Four**

"**Happy Birthday, Draco"**

...

"_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you."_

– _Suzanne Collins_

_..._

It was the soft rustling and gurgling sounds by the cot beside the bed that woke Hermione up.

Little Cepheus was up and awake now, kicking and raising his tiny hands, expecting someone to let him up by now.

Hermione knew she needed to get up and hold him now when he did this. Little Cepheus was never a patient baby. He adored those colourful dangling toys hanging above his cot and they could take his interest for a while. He was a very curious little tot and he'd stare and try to reach each by his tiny hands. But then, after a while, he'd get bored and become restless, which was the time for Hermione to let him up, if not, then he'd cry until your ears bleed. Even in his infantile state, it seemed that he already knew what he wanted, and he'd get in, by hook or by crook.

"Good morning too, my angel," she smiled as she took him out of his well refined cot, her voice still a little bit hoarse, fresh from sleep, and from all the shouting and crying she did last night. Little Cepheus didn't seem to mind. All he wanted was to be in his mummy's arms. He had comfortably settled himself into her chest, wriggling into her embrace.

Hermione closed her eyes and smelled her baby's downy hair. It comforted her. She honestly didn't want to get out of her covers and face another day.

She and Draco had a big fight last night, ending in an atrocious mess when Draco threw a porcelain cornucopia vase into the huge stained glass that decorated the room, with her being hurt in the process.

Draco had looked too shocked when it happened. It was an accident, but no matter what, it still resulted in the fact that she was wounded, and Cepheus could have had been hurt as well if she didn't had the reflexive impulse to cover her body to protect him.

She knew that her husband had such an appalling temper, but somehow, he had tried so hard to divert his anger from her into something, _anything_, just as long as he wouldn't be able to touch and hurt her.

But what happened last night…

It was out of bounds. She couldn't even make out of it. It scared the hell out of her. Last night was an accident, and he said he was sorry about it. But would it always be an accident? How much time left would it take him to finally hurt her and her baby as well?

He was drowning more and more into his own darkness.

For the first time, she was actually, _truly_, afraid for her life, for her baby's life.

She was afraid of _him_.

They were in this constant tug of war, and nobody was winning. Neither of them could let go even though there was the fact that both their hands were drawing out blood from the pressure around the rope.

And it was too much.

They were in different sides. And he was going further and further into his side of dimness.

She kissed the top of Cepheus' head before bringing him gently with her into the huge, king-sized bed. She smiled, forgetting her worries for a while, as her little angel struggled to support himself with his elbows and tummy as he sought for her familiar face, shakily stretching his head to look up at her. His hair was unruly due to his sleep, making him looked like a little sun, a sweet cherub, with his blond, golden beams of hair sticking in all directions.

It was obvious just how much he loved watching his mummy, with his round, glassy eyes, always filled with wonder and veneration. He was gurgling incoherent sounds as he patted and ruffled the soft linens of the bed that made him wobble unsteadily into his tummy.

"You want to play with Mummy? Huh?" She cooed while picking him up and placing him on his back to tickle him gently. Her little angel squeaked and giggled in mirth. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

And those mere sounds…

His laughter.

His smile.

It took her to her once upon a time.

Beyond the tears, the sheets of the silent battle, the resentments, pride and isolation…

…back to their summer.

"_Ah, ha, ha, now! Who comes here  
Wreathed in flowers of gold and queer  
Tiny tangled curls of green  
Gayly bobbing in between?"_

_Little Hermione sang and giggled in mirth as she plucked one of the hundred of wild dandelions which were bursting out from the large meadow. _

_She was with Draco, her best, best friend, by their secret place filled with those pesky dandelions she loved so much. She had just clandestinely stolen Adrian's broom by his cupboard so Draco could teach her how to fly, or more likely float a bit, since she was too afraid to be too far away from the ground. _

_Her mother would go berserk if she'd ever know this. But this was hers and Draco's secret, protected by a very powerful pinky promise._

"_Pretty token of the spring!  
Hark! We hear the bluebirds sing  
When we thus see little girls  
Decked in dandelion curls."_

_She continued singing as she plucked some dandelion flowers and blew its hundreds of smaller florets and seeds to disperse into the air currents. _

_Some of the soft tiny florets floated and landed into his blond hair, sticking into them, making him shine with little white, cottony petals through the yellow rays of sunlight._

"_You look like an angel, Draco," she beamed gleefully at him. _

"_That's funny. Mother always says I'm an ugly little devil every time she gets angry at Father. She says I'm my father's son, that I'm a devil's spawn though I don't really understand what it means," Draco replied while shrugging off the tiny florets from the blown dandelion away from his hair. _

"_You can't be a devil. You're not bad," she frowned; absolutely puzzled of the fact on how the Lady Malfoy could even say that to Draco._

"_How do you know? You hated me when you first saw me with those fishes at the pond I was playing with. You even asked me if I'd kill them."_

"_Would you have really killed them, then?" She asked. _

"_Probably," he shrugged._

"_No, you wouldn't have," she said with decisiveness._

"_How would you even know? You're not me," Draco pointed out._

"_Because you just wanted me to see that you were really going to kill them because you didn't want me to like you. Because you wanted to play alone," she told him assertively, really convinced that what she was saying was true. "Nanny Demelza said—"_

"_If a bad person did something wrong, he'll never admit it to anyone else. If a good person wants to look bad but he can't, he'll try to let other people see that he did something wrong even if he didn't do it," Draco continued for her, remembering her very words the first time they met by the pond._

_Hermione giggled. "You have an amazing memory."_

"_Because until now, I really can't figure out what you said," Draco frowned, also laughing a bit as he scratched his head.__ "But would you have run away if I did kill them?" He asked her in interest._

"_No," she shook her head. "Because you wouldn't have anyway."_

_"What if I did?" He challenged her._

_She smiled while picking out one tiny floret that was left on his hair, "Then you're just not you."_

"_Who is 'me', then?"_

"_You are Draco. You're not cruel or mean. You just don't see it yet. You can't be cruel even if you're trying to let people believe what Mr. Malfoy said. You see, that's why you're my friend. Because you didn't harm those fishes at the first place… because you couldn't."_

Hermione stared closely at little Cepheus. Tracing her fingertips on his pale, unblemished, soft skin, she knew that Draco looked exactly like this when he was a baby… happy, innocent, free…

When she was at Beauxbatons, her friends would always tell her just how much everybody became her friend because she seemed to always see the good out of everyone. She was befriended and trusted by almost every person, even those who were too smug or too proud to be approached.

They'd ask her how she'd done it, making friends with and gaining the favour of everyone in whichever room she was placed in. She was often asked of the secret in gaining such a likable personality. But she had no secret, really.

She just loved looking at a person and imagining what they'd looked like when they were younger, when they were little babies and how they'd become the person they were now, each story, each experiences, each smiles and cries, just like that of little, sweet Cepheus.

She once knew a bully in their school before. She was a senior. Her name was Mallory. She was feared by everyone, had no friends, backbitten when she turned her back, but openly being served in fear when she'd face them.

Everyone thought of her as nothing but a bully, someone to be secretly hated and openly feared, until Hermione saw her at the corner of the library… crying.

When Hermione looked at her closely, she transformed into the little, innocent girl. Hermione realised, Mallory was a little girl once, who did nothing but crave her mother's love. But somehow, she couldn't get it… because she was a mistake from the start. It took months for Hermione to gain her trust, until one day, on that same spot by the library, Mallory told her the reason behind her name. Mallory means 'unlucky'. Her mother named her, herself… her mother who was raped at the age of fifteen.

Little Cepheus shrieked and giggled playfully while grasping the hem of her nightdress, almost placing it into his mouth before she gently took his hand away and held it in place, making him close his hand around her finger.

He held into her finger as if his hand was permanently glued into hers. Little Cepheus was so happy being so near her, holding her. He was always happy, always laughing, always playing. But then again, don't all babies do? Until they grow and realise, one way or another, they're going to get hurt and experience it to such a high degree, they'd forget how to laugh again.

"I'll do everything, baby, _everything_ to shield you from this world," she whispered before kissing him again. "I'll never let anyone stop you from laughing. I'll never let anyone ruin your pretty smile."

_Just like what they did to Mallory and Draco._

Draco.

Where was he?

He was not there beside her anymore when she woke up. She didn't know if it was an advantage or not, if she wanted that he wasn't here anymore, or if it left her absolutely miserable on such an empty, cold bed.

But she didn't know what to feel anymore. Nothing really was stable in her mind right now. It had been incredibly messy ever since her heart started to overpower it.

Her emotions had been too muddled that it affected even her senses.

And right now, she was even hearing an explosion from the outside…

She almost thought it wasn't real, a cause or somehow a small shadow from her nightmares every night. But then, it happened again and she needed to hold Cepheus when he started crying because of the terrifying noise.

She cooed gentle words into his ears as she stood up and leaped into the veranda to see what was going on. When she turned the doorknob of the glass door that separated it, however, it was tightly closed.

It seemed that Draco had purposefully locked it before he went.

She moved the curtain aside to see what was going on outside. Her heart went into her throat when she made out of what looked like an army of wizards, throwing hexes into the manor grounds to break the protective barriers surrounding the mansion. They were aiming at a certain spot, finding a hole to break inside… their robes too familiar, and their masks too memorable.

She had seen it too many times before. In fact, she had been living with one of its owners.

Because the army that were breaking their wards weren't from the Order.

They were _death-eaters_.

And with military precision with her realisation, the room burst open, showing a very gaunt and nervous Theo. He looked too troubled, it was so unlike him. "Hermione! Take Cepheus with you! We need to go _now_!"

"W-What is happening, Theo?"

"No time to explain. We need to go before they finally break in," he uttered urgently while taking his own cloak off to cover her body, with little Cepheus still crying and whimpering into her arms.

"W-Why are the death-eaters breaking the wards, Theo? And where is Draco? I-I don't understand. Aren't they supposed to be under his orders?" She pleaded. "And where are you taking me? What—"

"We have no fucking time!" Theo shouted through gritted teeth as he pulled her with him through the foyer.

"Hold Cepheus tightly," he whispered before protectively pulling her to him as he clutched on an object that looked like an empty inkpot.

Before she could react, she felt an invisible hook somewhere behind her navel pulling and hauling her into the air.

And before she knew it, she was out of the manor and inside of none other than the family home of the Weasley family… the headquarters of the Order, except it was empty.

It happened too fast, she was left speechless and unmoving, staring dumbly at the warm, pleasant room with number of sofa and armchairs. The old large fireplace was glowing red, the stairs and the whole living room that were once so filled with people were unoccupied somehow, taking her back to the very time she had gone down on it and declared that she was going to accept the position of being a spy for the Order.

Everything had been different after that. It seemed that she'd been living in another world, in another time while she was at Malfoy Manor. Too many things had happened. And she had wondered lately, if her purpose was served, or if being a spy was the real reason why she volunteered then; when in fact, she had stopped doing her job when Snape started on not asking her to anymore.

But still, she couldn't believe it. For the first time, in almost two years… she was _free_.

It was like waking up from a beautiful nightmare.

And she honestly and truthfully didn't know how to feel about it.

"Oh! Thank goodness you made it!" Molly Weasley, a small, plump woman whom Hermione recognised as Ginny's mother suddenly emerged from the stairs to embrace Hermione.

Guilt.

Maybe that was the emotion she had been searching to feel.

"Oh my… Hermione, I-I… so it's true. This is your child with young Malfoy," Mrs. Weasley uttered as she gently took Cepheus into her arms.

Hermione pursed her lips as she looked down, still shaking unbelievably, it was ridiculous. She didn't know what to say, what to react, even. She guessed she was ashamed because this was Ginny's mother, and she had failed to fulfill her promise on avenging her only daughter. Instead, she had done the opposite and had a child with a murderer.

No, she wasn't ashamed of Cepheus. She would _never_ be ashamed of her little angel.

She was just ashamed of the circumstances, and her sin of omission in the process.

But then, there was something inside the older woman's warm brown eyes that got her.

Mrs. Weasley was kissing little Cepheus, swaying him from side to side as if he was her very own son. She was too good at handling children that even if Cepheus hated strangers, she still managed to calm him down. Hermione guessed it was because she had seven children…with one of them being dead.

It was that nagging guilt again.

But Mrs. Weasley wasn't angry. She wasn't even disgusted of the fact that she was holding a son of Draco Malfoy, the very man they were all set to kill, the very man who had ruined their lives.

Until it got her…

"T-Theo? How did you manage to get us away from the mansion?"

"Through a portkey. We needed to go. It was becoming out of hand and—"

"Draco never fails on ensuring the wards, Theo. _Nothing_, not even a portkey can ever function inside," she was literally shaking now. The room was fairly warm, but she was utterly shaking, she felt like a fever was going to spike up inside her.

"Not if he's the one who charmed it for exception," Theo told her softly.

"W-What do you mean?"

"He's one of us." Both looked around and found the source of the voice. Hermione was sure she was about to lose any sense of perception as she saw the very person by the doorway.

"A-Adrian!" She had her mouth temporarily opened before running and embracing her older brother so hard, she was sure she had almost knocked him off. "Oh Adrian!"

Seeing Adrian left her unfeasibly elated. She was reminded of a part of her childhood, on how she'd laugh and he'd lift her off the ground to playfully swirl her around.

"Adrian, why are you here? What about Father and Mother? How are they? What—"

All it took was a millisecond before Adrian's last words flurried back to her.

_He's one of us._

Did she really hear it right?

Were her senses playing with her again?

But it was so clear. It was echoing back and forth into her acoustic nerves like a resounding gong.

"W-What do you mean?" She felt her voice quiver. Her head was aching and she could still feel that slight nausea from her sudden travel on portkey. Being imprisoned inside a mansion for almost two years didn't exactly do well with her rusty system.

"Let Draco explain that," Adrian told her before getting something from his pocket. It was a letter, carefully folded without an envelope. "He's been helping us for more than a year now, Hermione."

Hermione was left speechless. More than a year? Exactly the time she had conceived Cepheus, exactly the time when Theo was accepted into the alliance, exactly the time when Snape stopped asking her for details on Draco's missions…

_"__Just stay, child. Don't do anything foolish and… just stay. That's all that's ever asked of you."_

"_Professor, if you can just honestly tell me what's going on, then maybe I can—"_

"_Just stay."_

Her head was reeling from the lost sense of gravity in the air, she almost stumbled down. She could feel her hands unsteadily seeking for her baby's warmth. Cepheus was still lying comfortably on Mrs. Weasley's chest, but had then squirmed and searched for his mummy's face when he felt her touch him.

As if on cue, Cepheus struggled to get out of the older woman's grasp to get back to his mother. It was as if he knew that mummy needed him. It left her crying as she took him and embraced him warmly.

"When we were younger, I threw all the letters Draco sent you and as well as the letters you've sent him. Until now, I'm still very sorry about it," Adrian told her while fingering the letter on his hand. "And I feel like delivering this single letter to you can somehow atone to my sins. And I'm grateful that he allowed me to do so, that he trusted me again to keep it and give it to you once you're safely taken here…"

It took all the summoned energy in the world and Cepheus' warmth to reach for the letter. She didn't want to let go of Cepheus so Theo and Mrs. Weasley led her to sit on the couch, with Cepheus still lying on her shoulder, grasping her hair with his little fingers as if to calm her.

"He wants you to read it, when the right time comes, when you're safely here. But then, it has gotten out of hand. He meant to keep you safe inside his manor for a longer time, but it seems that he couldn't anymore. He wanted to explain, but he just couldn't let you know. You could have been killed months ago if not for the secrecy of the wards. Your unawareness of everything saved your life and your baby's. He kept this all a secret from you because he didn't want you to get involved and be in trouble," Theo told her by the side, his hands still inside his pockets.

Hermione shook her head, crying and laughing at the same time. She looked like she was insane.

_"You really love eavesdropping, don't you now, Princess? I can't help but notice that it had become your hobby somehow," He smiled as he kissed her. He sounded playful. _

_"I'm asking you a question, Draco," she said in contempt while whisking his hand away from her._

_"Okay, what about… I ask you a question, then?" He smirked. "About a fairytale…"_

_She didn't reply, so he went on. "Among the three brothers of the Peverell family in the deathly hallows, who do you think you'd rather be?"_

_"Why are you asking me this?"_

_"Why are you not answering?"_

_"It's just—"_

_"It's a simple question."_

_"The answer is obvious, isn't it? The third brother, Ignotus Peverell, of course," she sighed in annoyance. "He was the wisest to choose that cloak."_

_"I guess," Draco whispered before taking her waist to embrace her. "He's not as stupid as his brother Cadmus, isn't he?"_

…

_"Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. _

_Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. _

_To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him._

_Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. _

_Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. _

_Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her._

_And so Death took the second brother for his own."_

…

Stupid Cadmus.

Stupid Draco.

Stupid, stupid boy.

But after everything, beneath the mendacity and lies, beyond the shards of violent blood, he really was just and will always be the boy beside the pond.

Her little Draco…

Her eyes were blurry as she shakily opened the letter.

The date stated 4th of June, 1998. He must have written this last night. Before he went away. Before his birthday.

"Happy birthday, Draco," she whispered, remembering his favourite dishes she wanted to prepare for him this day but now could no longer do.

With tears in her eyes, she breathed in and opened the letter.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the late chapter, dears, but as atonement, I'll be posting Chapter 45 "Dear Hermione" (Draco's letter) THREE DAYS after this. **_**That's a promise! **_**I'm already done with it and I'm just polishing it for you. **

**And credits to classic children's poet, Evalein Stein, for the Dandelion song named "Dandelion Curls" which was sang by little Hermione on their forbidden meadow. **

**And of course to JK Rowling, for the story of Cadmus Peverell in "The Tale of the Three Brothers" under "The Tales of Beedle the Bard".**

**Song for chapters 44 and 45: ****"Porcelain Heart" by BarlowGirl (I have always love this song so much. I think there was a time when I just listened to it and did nothing but cry.) **

**The next chapter will just be all about the letter, which is incredibly long to fit a chapter, so this serves as my author's note for both. **

**Thank you so much for the support, guys! And review, review! :D**

**Have a blessed day! x**

**Love and kisses, Sue**


	45. Dear Hermione

**Disclaimer:I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Five "Dear Hermione"**

**(Draco's letter for Hermione)**

4th June 1998

Dear Hermione,

As I write this letter, I am watching you sleep. You look so peaceful, so still. Somehow, you've fallen asleep while crying. I've wiped your tears away but it's not enough. I always hate it when you cry. I always hate it when we go to bed without making up from a fight. It's my fault, anyway. And I'm going to take hold of this opportunity to say that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you.

I wonder what you're dreaming. You look so peaceful, so beautiful, so perfect, with the yellow light of our oil lamp gliding along your long lashes, like pixie dusts scattered by the moonlight. Your hair looks like they are glinting with flames, beautiful flames.

And right now, all I can think is, I love you. I love you even more than I did yesterday, and I will love you more in each second that passes.

And I'm sorry that by doing it, I'm continuing to hurt you. I just can't do anything right. I'm messed up somehow. I guess killing people can do that to you. I don't know how to make it all better. I don't know how to run away from it. But I want to, you know. I want to let go. I want to be a better man, for you, for our son, for our family.

I hope you're dreaming of beautiful things, beautiful memories, about me, about Cepheus, about us. I hope it's not about our fight. I hope you don't hate me enough to even consider me inside a nightmare. I hope you're sleeping well, dreaming of Cepheus' beautiful constellation that we watched before I ruined everything.

By the time you are reading this, I might as well be already out there, fighting for the right cause, taking back everything I did and doing what I can to make it up to you. I am not perfect, I know but I'm sorry. I truly am.

I am a prideful man and I'm too ashamed to tell you this, but I know I was wrong. If there is anyone who ruined everything, then it's me.

I have done so much wrong for you to even consider forgiving me. I won't blame you for it for I can't. When I was a little boy, I thought I owned the world. I got everything I wanted and I was proud of it. But then, you came and changed everything.

You were this little fairy I've found and caught on that garden. You were so beautiful even then. I can still remember that guilty feeling when you stared at me while I tortured that little carp. You have the most beautiful eyes, so haunting; yet, so beautiful. They were just so warm, so innocent. I realised I didn't want those eyes to hate me.

I can still remember the way you looked back then, with your white dress. I can still remember even that little daffodil I was supposed to throw away. It meant nothing to me, but by the time I gave it to you, it suddenly meant so much more than a yellow flower.

You were the little girl who asked me if I wanted to kill those fishes and I told you yes, but you didn't believe me. You said that if a bad person did something wrong, he'll never admit it to anyone. You told me I was good, I just wanted to be seen as a bad person. I'll never understand that. I don't even know what I am. But I guess you just always see the good in everybody. I guess you've always been my salvation, my angel.

And today, perhaps, even just a little; I finally understand what it meant.

You are my gentle flower, the light against my solitude.

You were the little girl who danced around so beautifully. You taught me how to drink nectars from those little blossoms, flaming along the woods. You taught me how to do pinky promises. You taught me the best places to hide for our games of hide and seek. I love every second you were at my back for your piggyback ride.

I love the way we'd hold hands, and even if our hands were a bit sweaty, I love that we couldn't even care less. I love running under the rain with you, and when we'd secretly sneak out to our secret meadow filled with those pesky dandelions we adored. You'd steal your brother's broom so I could teach you how to fly with me because your mother wouldn't let you. When you ran along with those flying dandelion petals by the breeze, you looked like the most beautiful pixie and I wanted you to be mine.

I love how you would heal me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. I love when we'd read stories together, and I'd fall asleep on your lap, with your soft fingers running along my hair, soothing me to sleep.

I love how you'd embrace me every time those thunderstorms appeared outside your windowpane. You made me feel like the strongest, bravest little boy in the world.

You taught that little scruffy boy how to be brave. You taught him how to finally be happy. He owes you too much. I owe you too much.

It was a beautiful summer. It was the best time of my life.

We were so young. We were so free. But I loved you, even then.

When I first kissed you, by then, I was so sure I would marry you.

When your brother kept our letters for each other and lied about you being committed to someone else, I was devastated. But I never stopped hoping. I just couldn't even if I tried. You were so beautiful when you danced and floated into the dining hall. I could still remember it as if it just happened yesterday, when I first saw you all grown up. You were as beautiful as the fairy I've caught on that garden, if possible, even more. Everything just stopped, like we were on an empty stage, and I was looking at you alone, and you were looking back at me.

I was the happiest when I first kissed you again after all those years. It was as secretive as our first kiss in the garden, but it was as special. We were under the starry night of that cold November just outside your school's pastel blue coach tied into those sleeping white winged horses. For hours, I waited for you, with bated breath, thinking that you wouldn't show up. But when you did, everything just disappeared.

You have the softest lips and the most beautiful, addictive scent. You are my dream girl. You are my princess. I wouldn't trade that feeling in anything in the world.

That night, when I looked up and saw the formed stars, I just knew I would never, ever let you go again.

It killed me when you got in trouble that night with my Slytherin classmates. I was so scared that I could lose you. You just didn't know how nervous I was when I found you inside that empty shack, crying and calling my name. I just needed to protect you. I just wanted to let them know never to hurt you again, which was why I did what I did. You were so angry at me, but I understand. I'm not sorry about it, Princess, you must know. They've messed with the wrong person. They deserved it. But I'm sorry that it did hurt you in the process.

I know that I'm not the purest person in the world, but I did all these because I wanted you so much. During the times you were angry at me, I was the one who placed that venomous tentacula juice on Theo's bag. Everybody thought it was an accident, but it really wasn't. I just didn't want him to take you at the Yule Ball. Even in those innocent times, I knew he already wanted you. But he just couldn't have you, no one could. Because you are mine.

I was also the one who placed that manegro potion on Weasley's pumpkin juice, and same went on Viktor Krum's ingested Amortentia. Well, at least the latter one did some good on Milicent Bulstrode's night. But still, I'm really sorry about it.

But you were and always will be mine. You were the only one who got me going during my months of training and torture with Voldemort. If it weren't for you, I probably would have had given up and just died then. But I wanted to see you again. I just needed to see you again.

The memory of your smile saved my life. I lived because I wanted to go back and see you smile again.

When I went back and was told of the truth about your blood, I was beyond broken. I wouldn't lie that I got so confused that time of what I would do, but you must know that I never stopped loving you. Please know that I couldn't do it. Please know that no matter what, I have loved you and I will always do.

I'm sorry that I became a coward. I'm sorry that I failed to stand up for you. All my life, I was trained to hate your race. I was told of lies and I believed them. I'm so sorry, love. But that time, I just couldn't accept it, couldn't accept you, and what your blood would do for us. I couldn't look at you straight in the eyes, because I didn't want to believe it.

I have killed muggleborns during that time and those killing march with Voldemort swirled back into my mind when I looked at you. And I couldn't bear to think that I could ever hurt you, my princess, because I just couldn't. I wanted to hurt anybody, anyone, even myself, but I just couldn't hurt you. I couldn't touch you. I couldn't look at you. I was too scared.

I never hated you, I just hated what happened. I just couldn't do anything. I was too scared that I could kill you just by touching you. Maybe I hated the instances, maybe I hated your blood, maybe I hated the race you came from, but I never hated you. Please don't think that I did.

During that time when Padma Patil couldn't make it for your rounds with her, I was worried of you. Pansy wanted you to patrol your side of the corridor alone. I insisted against it because I didn't want you to be left unaccompanied. But you just ran away and I needed to run after you. I left Pansy alone for you. She was scared to death as she screamed after me. But I just couldn't look back. I needed to run after you. The following day, she broke up with me, but I didn't care one bit. I just couldn't leave you out there. I needed to see you were okay. That was the first time when I saw you and Theo together.

I started following you since then. I hid behind a tree and watched you with Ginny Weasley at the Hogwarts Lake. You were so beautiful back then, dipping your toes on the waters. It reminded me of our summer together. It reminded me of how we were back then. It reminded me on how much you were mine. You didn't know just how much my heart wrenched in the agony of not being with you.

I was so confused, so conflicted, so mystified of the fact on how someone like you could be that beautiful with that dirty blood everybody claimed you to have.

I heard how you told her that maybe I didn't really love you, that maybe I just thought I did. I wanted to run into you and tell you how wrong you were. But I just couldn't do it. I was scared of you, of your blood, of my blood, of what it meant, of everything. We were just so wrong for each other and I was a coward to believe that. I'm sorry that I was too blinded to see anything. I'm sorry that I have thrown away my feelings for a belief that never really existed.

I'm sorry that I didn't fight for you.

But then, Theo had to pull that stunt on flirting with you and kissing your hand at the library. I wanted to kill him back then. You're mine. Even if I couldn't have you, I knew still that you were mine. And I hated that you didn't even stop him. I hated that I couldn't even stop him.

I hated that no one did.

I was hurt, and I wanted to hurt you just as you've hurt me.

I was too conflicted of everything. I was given an ultimatum by Voldemort. It's my life, my parents' life and your life against Dumbledore's. And then I had to see you having a good time with Theo. I lost it. I took Hestia Carrow and banged her against the wall. She didn't seem to mind. And I wanted to take all my frustrations out on her.

When you saw us together, I admit that I was morbidly happy. Because I have accomplished my task of hurting you, of making you jealous, of making you cry because of me and not for anyone else's.

I was selfish and I wanted your attention.

I wanted your emotion.

I wanted you to focus on me, alone.

I wanted you to cry for me.

I wanted all of you.

But my mirth only lasted along for a short while. I was incredibly lonely after that. My guilt had almost killed me. Your tears haunted me that I almost killed myself.

After I shouted at Hestia to go away, I crouched on the floor, cowardly crying. I cried for my pathetic state. I cried for the mess that I was in. I cried that I still wanted you too much and it killed me.

I realised I didn't want to hurt you. But then I realised that it was too late to think of that, so then I cried harder.

I was vile, my princess. I was evil and just so low. I don't even deserve you. But I love you madly. You must know, at least. I was mad, but it was because I just really love you.

I told you once that I'll never ever let you go, that I'd have to kill first before it happens. So I did what I could. I'm not exactly proud of it, but I won't take it back either.

But it all just got out of hand and I'm sorry, princess. I'm sorry that your best friend died. I know you love her and you were deeply hurt when she passed away. I know that you blame me for it and I'm truly sorry. If I could take her life back to make you happy I really would.

I honestly thought it was enough, you know. I thought I could make you happy. I thought we could be together and be happy the way everything was. But I was wrong.

That night during Montague's ball, Theo just appeared out of nowhere and went to talk to me. My first instinct was to kill him, having known that he was helping the Order. But then, he told me about you…

He asked me to take you back to him. He told me that if I love you, if I truly love you, I would help the Order and give you a better future. I wanted to kill him back then, to hand him over to my death-eaters and be tortured to death. But he questioned me about my love for you. No one could ever question or doubt it. No one could ever die thinking that I don't love you.

But he did, and I just couldn't kill him because of it. He challenged me to show him, to prove to him just how much I love you, just how far I'd go to prove it. He asked me to think about it, and get back to him when I'd finally realise what you really meant to me.

I kicked him out, but I didn't kill him.

I was so angry at him.

Couldn't he see how much I love you?

Was giving my soul to Voldemort wasn't enough?

How dare he question my love for you?

I was beyond livid. I was beyond jealous. He talked as if he loved you better than I do. I was out of my mind. His words struck me like poisoned daggers. They were whirling, hitting me in every angle, it was viral. I didn't know what has gotten into me but I knew I just needed to keep you, to ensure a way that you could permanently be mine. We were already married but it wasn't enough for me. That was the reason why I forced my child on you.

But when I did, it all flurried back at me. You cried so hard, I wanted to hurt myself for it. I let you physically hurt me because I know I deserved it. But I know it just wasn't enough.

I know I did hurt you, but hearing the extent of it from you, hearing everything that you went through, on how much I hurt you, on how much I ruined you, and knowing just how much damage I've done just killed me.

It just killed me right there.

It was when I realised, you weren't happy and you could never be if I continue keeping you like this. And I was the cause of your grief. I don't deserve any good from you at all. I just deserve to burn in hell. You told me I was evil. You told me I was a monster. Perhaps, I am.

But I love you.

You told me you hated me. It hurt me so badly, hearing that directly from you. I didn't want you to hate me. I love you too much.

Your confessions hit me like the greatest tempest. It was too much. I hated hearing you cry inside our bathroom. Even my whiskey tasted nothing when I poured almost all its contents into my throat. It stung like hell but it just couldn't sting enough. It couldn't burn me enough.

You were crying so hard, you didn't hear it. But I cried with you. I felt your pain and it plagued me with endless guilt. I hate hearing you cry, I hate seeing you cry. I hate it when you're hurting. I hate that you're so vulnerable and I'm the reason behind it.

By the time I got you out from the bathtub and carried your unconscious form into our bed, I just know I needed to change everything. I needed to pay for everything. I needed to make you smile again. I needed to prove to you how much I love you.

By then, my decision was made.

I became a defector. That was when I started to finally secretly join the Order, taking Theo's offer. Theo was easily accepted to the alliance because of me. Without me, he could have just died the moment he showed his face again, but I deflected my men.

My pack questioned me greatly about it, but I was their leader. They couldn't do anything about it. Through my years of training, I have learned the excellence of the art of Occlumency and it came handy. I started sending false information to the dark lord, as well as formulating new plans, improving them for days to weeks to months until it had become more than a year. It wasn't easy, but I did it. I needed to.

With the help of my godfather, I formed a secret alliance among my own pack. Not all of them agreed, so we improvised by sorting. It meant protecting those who are with us, persuading and enlightening those who are confused and killing those who had no chance. It wasn't an option at all; it was a necessity, a stipulation.

It wasn't surprising just how much my troops valued me and what I could do for them. After all, they were all just like me, trained and fooled to do what we really didn't want to for the sake of our families and our greedy fathers.

We were what the dark lord calls "the future", the younger generation of his death-eaters, fresher, stronger, hungrier, greedier, more ambitious…

And he valued us enough to ever question our motive to supremacy.

Blaise hated my idea, hated Theo, hated you. He told me my love could cost us our lives, his fiancée Daphne's life, whose family was living in fear, serving the dark lord, giving him enough resources and supplies, so in turn, he could let them live.

Blaise almost got out of the alliance, knowing just how much it would cost him, how this could affect Daphne's family. I almost killed him, he almost killed me. But he was my friend and by the time our wands were drawn towards each other, we just couldn't do it. We are brothers till the end, and we both know it.

If we survive this, if this alliance can hold on a little longer, I know we can make it. I promised him we'll never screw this up for his sake, and for his future bride's sake. He might have been too cruel to you, but he is my friend, and I know that when danger comes, he'll protect you no matter what for me.

Perhaps, you've noticed that the usual death-eaters at the mansion are not there anymore, and I wouldn't allow you to go outside the grounds any longer. It's because my manor is the only safest place I can consign you and my child with. I doubled the sentries. We've stretched the wards to its highest limit. I did everything in my power so you and my son can be protected.

We made Voldemort believe that I was starting my own regime for him. The news spread like wildfire and the other packs hated me for it. The dark lord, however, was impressed of my progress and on just how much recruits I've gotten, on how my group had gotten bigger and stronger than the others. Though the truth was, most of my recruits were those renegades among the forest, some came from the pirate radio programme members who switched locations, or sometimes, those spies sent by Potter himself to help us, including your brother.

I kept the dark lord pleased by feeding him lies, with the help of my own conjured false memories, and it used to work for a while.

I cemented Theo's loyalty to the pack by telling Voldemort about the information that the Order knew about the value of the Horcruxes and were hunting to destroy each, with Theo serving as my turncoat. It apparently was the truth and Theo was given a greater equilibrium among Voldemort's clan because of it.

The monster trusted me too much. He was preparing something big for me. But the idiot didn't realise just how much an apprentice could turn on his own teacher.

There were nights when I'd almost pass out for overusing my powers and capabilities, but I never gave up. Not when I'd see you with your pregnant belly. When you were carrying Cepheus, you were the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on. You've always been beautiful. You've always been the most beautiful woman in the world. But when you were carrying my son inside your womb, you just eternally glowed.

Sometimes, I'd stay up late at night, just watching you sleep. You're the only one who can give me this sense of peace in the middle of this troubled war. I'd kiss you and your belly. I love the warmth of it on my cheeks. I wanted to rub your belly all over me forever. I just wanted to keep you with me, always; to make sure no one hurts you or our baby.

When you gave birth, I was the happiest man on earth.

I couldn't be more proud than anyone else as I watched you feed my son the very first time.

He has my hair and the colour of my eyes, but he has your smile, your beauty and I was just damn proud. I watched you holding him into your arms, singing lullabies to him. You were so gentle, so beautiful, so loving. If every mother in the world is like you, then perhaps, we'd live in a paradise.

By then I just knew I made the right choice. I couldn't give up for you and my son. I've been working on this for so long, Hermione… for you, for us. I almost died in those months but I'd happily die for you.

Despite of Crabbe's betrayal to my pack and my absence in the interrogation when you gave birth, Voldemort's favour still went to me. Crabbe took the liberty of being under Voldemort's graces by selling me out. I hadn't left the manor for a week because of that. Blaise had warned me that if I ever did, I'd be killed, knowing that some of the leaders inside the inner circle still hated me. They were incredibly jealous of my position to the dark lord, and they would annihilate me whenever they get the tiniest chance to do so.

After a week, the dark lord finally summoned me to tell him my side of the story. The monster was too confident of the fact that he'd known everything in me because he 'created' me. But he was wrong. I have already prepared myself for the interrogation; have conjured the proper false memories for him to look into.

It was hours of mental torture. My brain stung like hell. There were moments when I thought I'd die, that it was possible that my head could literally split in two, but I held through. I made it look like it was Crabbe who had conjured his own false memories to betray me and to take my spot inside the circle and not the other way around. And in the end, he believed it.

I didn't know how I did it, couldn't believe that I did it, even. I have been expanding my magic in that area but I didn't believe I could be the greatest Occlumens out there, even if my godfather told me once that I had the capability to do so.

I honestly don't know how I even got through, how I even made it. But fooling the dark lord by decisively closing some parts of my mind and creating indestructible barriers around it just made me the greatest Occlumens out there, I guess.

Or I was just fucking lucky.

But there's only a little time until my good fortune ran out. Before it did, however, I was willing to do everything in my power to take advantage of it.

And then, I finally hit the jackpot.

Voldemort had given me the opportunity to guard his horcruxes, to hunt for them and keep them safe for him. It meant that he gave me all their locations for me to be able to relocate them again, to re-scatter them on even deadlier areas.

He trusted me too much, it was sick. It was like when I started my so-called regime, he actually believed I could have the potential to be his, dare I say it, 'son'.

He was one sick, twisted, mad bastard. But I guess people saw me that way too. Mad. Insane. Psychotic. Killing people I didn't know made me into such a monster. And I hated it. He might be even having the logical reason why he trusted me too much.

But, nonetheless, it was a breakthrough for our plans.

That was the reason why I went away for three months. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I can't risk your safety. I did it for you and our son and I'd do anything just to keep you safe.

I worked hard for months to look for them, ate stale food, hunted through the woods, never truly sleeping if I considered all those nightmares during the hours of darkness. I congregated each, but in truth, I was giving the real Horcruxes to Potter while keeping the fake, authenticated ones for re-scattering on Voldemort's assigned noxious locations.

It was damn difficult. The dark lord is not that easy to fool, even if he trusted me, I had a glitch in the record because of Crabbe. I survived the interrogation, with my head almost bursting out. Yes, I regained his trust, but merlin knew there will and always be a scar in that trust somewhere.

We were about to find and kill Crabbe on our hunts, to stop him from doing any further damage, but then Greyback's army got him first. Knowing how he never uses his brain, he just killed Crabbe right there without further interrogations. Voldemort gave him his price when he handed Crabbe's dead body. But that was the end of it. Crabbe was dead. No one would ever lay my secrets to anyone anymore. He was my friend, but he was completely blinded and he being killed was the only option. His death gave me the upper hand.

But it wasn't long that he'd finally known my betrayal. That is the very reason why I never told you anything. I couldn't tell you anything in fear that you might get in trouble because of it. It was better that you didn't know anything. This is the war I started, and I will end it on my own.

I kept you in the dark because I know that if all else fails, Voldemort would have to use you to get to me and I couldn't allow that to happen. I ensured the wards, above all, testing and retesting it to its highest capability, making sure that even when I'm gone, you and my son could be protected above all. I brought my trusted men with me, Blaise and Montague, but left Theo for you. In case anything happens, I know that he'll be able to get you to safety.

I knew I needed to end this all together. I needed to protect you and being near you was too dangerous.

I'm sorry that I didn't get to say goodbye. I told you that I'd try to be with you on my birthday, but I'm sorry I had to go. I'm sorry that we never even got to settle our fight before I went. It was my entire fault, and I'm sorry. Please understand, my princess. You and Cepheus are the only ones I really got and I can't risk your lives to hide mine.

While you're reading this right now, I am proudly marching with the Order knowing that by being in the front row, I'd finally be able to prove my love for you, to achieve my pinky promise on that little girl I've fallen in love with in that garden when I was just a mere boy.

I'll fight harder to come back to you. I want to go back, princess. I really do. It's okay if you won't have me anymore, just as long as I can see you again. I want to see you smile again.

You have the most beautiful smile in the world. I'd cross all the odds just to see you smile again. Maybe, you can smile without me; maybe your smile can't be aimed at me anymore. But even if I'll only see it in a distance, I would still be happy.

I don't deserve you anymore. I know you're scared of me. You hate me, even. But I want to prove to you at least, that I truly love you. It hurts me to let you think that I didn't love you, because I did, and I still do. That night when Dumbledore asked me to figure out what I really wanted, all that went inside my mind was your smile. I wanted you, I still want you. I'll want you forever.

By then, I knew I needed to do it. There was no other way. It was a risky course but I did it. Voldemort promised me your life in exchange of Dumbledore's. I was out of my mind. I didn't care how I could get you just as long as I'd be able to. I'm not exactly proud of it. I was crazy, I know, but I'll never regret it until the day I die.

I'd die for you and I'd still do it again, a million times if I have to.

Next to Potter, Voldemort wants my head above all. I was the one who relocated the wrong horcruxes and who had salvaged the real ones. I was the reason why he'd lost the souls he so greedily divided and hid to stay in this world. He wants me dead. No other option.

He's looking all over for me, and there's only a little time left before he decides to break the barriers I've built around the manor so he could use you and my son to defeat me. But before it happens, I want you to go with Theo and the others. Stay with them, they can protect you and my son above all.

I want you to run, Hermione. Never look back. Never think about me.

I'll surrender everything to make you happy. I always wanted you to wear white and let people see you walking that aisle towards me. You always look good in white, just like the time we first met. But everything was just too complicated when I married you. I'm so sorry, Princess. I needed to ensure the validity of the papers and the vow before anything else. It was a rush, yes. But I promise you, someday, if you'll have me back, if I can make it, I'll make it up to you. I'll marry you again if you'll let me. I'll give you the proper marriage you deserve.

But if I can't make it back, please continue on with your life. You are my wife and all the Malfoy fortune is named after you and Cepheus. I made sure of it before going out for the battle. You'll be okay without me. I can die peacefully knowing that yours and my son's future is secured.

Please find someone who will love you and treat you the way you should be treated. Find someone who will love Cepheus, and never let him go astray and step on the road I've taken. I'll probably suck as a father so my presence isn't that important, anyway. But I know you'll be a great mother. I'm so damn sure you would be. You already are. Every time I look at you with our baby, I feel very proud.

I love watching you with him. There's no wonder why he loves you so much. You are an epitome of kindness and gentleness. You are so beautiful. You are an angel, after all. You are the perfect wife any man dreams of having.

Cepheus will be nothing like me because he's in good hands. I know. It's okay if you can't tell him about me. But I still wish you would. I love you both, more than my life. I will do anything for you. I just wish I could have been a better man to prove that.

Always be happy. Always smile, my princess, because that is one of the things I love about you. I couldn't imagine living my life with anyone else but you. I've always been selfish, but for you, I can make an exception. I have realised that maybe, all along, I just wanted you to be happy, with or without me.

I've always wanted you to have that smile on your face with me in the picture. But maybe, I'm just not worth it anymore. Maybe you can smile without me, but I'll take it. Just as long as you can smile again, then I guess I can still be the happiest, even if I'm not with you anymore.

Please don't cry again. I'm always the reason why you cry and I don't want you to cry again. It's okay. It's really okay, my princess. Everything is going to be alright. Be a tough girl, for me, will you? Be strong. You're a brave girl, I know. Never let anyone hurt you again.

Nothing could even be more special than what you have given me. I love you because you're beautiful. I love you because you're bright and smart and clever. I love you because you're always so damn kind to everyone, even to a heartless bastard like I am. I love you because you're patient and selfless. I love you because you're everything that I am not but you still took the time to love me back. You saved me and you've loved me for who I am, and with that, I am eternally grateful.

I love you, with those reasons that seem too impossible to be written or say. And even if I will fill this up with those words, this letter still couldn't tell you how much I really love you, for our love is immeasurable, just like the beauty of your soul. You have given me all the possible happiness a man could ever have, and I will treasure it forever.

And you saved me.

I may have killed people. I may have done the worst things, enough to give me a one way ticket to hell. But, I hope my love is enough. I hope that if your God is real, He could forgive me. I hope my last actions can save me. I hope you can forgive me.

I won't lie that I'm not scared because I am. I'll fight until my last breath to give you and my son a better future. I've ruined everything, but I hope it's not too late to make it all right again. It just breaks my heart on just how much time I've wasted, on just how much I wish I can still go back and marry you again.

I still want to celebrate birthdays with you. I still want to surprise you on Valentine's days or on our anniversaries just like I did when you were at France. Do you still remember? You'd always get mad at me for showing up on some weekends but you'd always open the door for me anyway. I'd kiss you like there's no tomorrow whenever your Aunt Genevieve was out shopping. Damn, that woman seriously couldn't live without her shopping bags, could she? I wonder if she ever had a day without them.

I still want to give you the most perfect tree on Christmas. I still want to read books with you, to fall asleep on your lap just like I did when we were younger. I still want to teach our little Cepheus how to ride a broom, and watch you scream nervously at us from the ground. How I love you whenever you're worried. It makes me feel like I'm important to somebody, somehow.

I miss the way you'd wipe my back after my Quidditch leisure hours, making sure I won't catch a cold. I love that bossy shrill on your voice. I love your cute button nose when you're angry.

I wish everything is simpler. I wish I can still see the day of Cepheus' first trip to Hogwarts. I wish I can wave my hand at him, with you emotionally crying at my side. Then, I would wipe your tears just like I always did. I would kiss you and tell you about our next vacation trip to make you happy. I wish I can still show you just how much I can be a better husband. I wish I can have all that.

I wish I can grow old with you, and laugh about everything that has happened while holding you in my arms.

But even if I can't anymore, if I can't get out of here alive, please do remember me, my princess. Please do remember the times we had together. Please remember that I love you. Please remember that little boy by the pond and not the murderer everyone condemns. The latter isn't truly me, my love. Please don't hate me. I beg you not to hate me. I won't be able to take it.

Please remember that you've loved me somehow, and that once, we were happy together. It will never be over for me. I love you and please remember that you did love me back, that you did kiss me back.

You are the only good in my life. Thank you for everything, my princess. If I don't come back, I wish you'd remember me. I wish you'd remember our tale… our first kiss, our stolen moments behind those dusty books at Hogwarts, our fears behind those smiles, our laughter under the summer rain, our piggyback rides, our love letters sent and received when you came back to Beauxbatons, our music compilation on your gramophone, our mid-spring baths on the lake, our favourite bedtime stories, even the salves you've placed on my wounds and bruises whenever my father would beat me.

When you see and look at Cepheus' constellation in the sky, please see mine as well and please remember our kiss under that November sky.

When thunder roars outside your windowpane, I wish you'd remember that you'd always run into my room and seek for my comfort. I wish you'd remember my kisses. I wish it was different enough from the others, special enough for you to remember. I wish you'd know just how greatly I am in love with you.

I'm scared that someday, you'll fall in love with a better man and that you'll be able to forget about me. But I know that you deserve it. You deserve someone better than I will ever be.

But whenever you see those blooming daffodils, or the summer rain, or even those little carps on the pond, I wish you'll remember me, remember us. I guess they're our thing, you know. I wish you'd keep this letter. I wish you'd still read it even if you'll grow older with someone else, to know that some bastard named Draco Malfoy had loved you deeply. He's one messed-up boy, but fuck, he loves you so much.

In another life, I wish you'd choose me, somehow. I wish I could be a better man by then.

Right now, however, I have nothing to offer but my life. I'm so sorry, my princess. But this is all that I can do. I promise I won't die if Voldemort doesn't. I'll die fighting for you, but I won't rest until everything is over. I will take Voldemort to the grave with me if I have to. That's Potter's job, but if there's anyone who truly deserves to die, then it's me. I promise I'll give you a better future. You'll be happy without me, but I'll take all that I can get.

You once asked me about your favourite story, about Pygmalion, its pages kept by that little daffodil I gave you, that even if he knew where Galatea had come from, and she was just a statue made from ivory, he would have loved her still even if it was wrong. You asked me if it was romantic and I didn't answer you back then.

Right now, I tell you. It's the most romantic story I've ever heard. It was tragic from the start, but still very romantic; because you are my Galatea and I am your Pygmalion. I am you and you are me. I'd offer my life to let you out of that stone. I'll trade my life for you if I have to. I am doing it now and I want you to remember me for that and not for the monster that I have been. I don't care about anything anymore. Where you came from doesn't constitute to who you are, or to who I am, or why I love you.

There's no such thing as blood status, or birthright, or custom. It doesn't constitute to who you are or to what you're made of. Whoever made and believed it must be a lonely, lonely man. He must have never loved anyone, somehow. And you saved me from being like him.

It's funny, isn't it? How I've learned it the hard way, how this has to end so tragically before I truly realise what I've got.

Maybe we are truly tragic. Maybe our story isn't like the fairytales we've read when we were younger. I've always found them boring, you know. I'd lie on your lap and fall asleep whenever you'd read about them. But right now, I'd trade anything to have those happy endings with you.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you have loved a guy like me. I'm sorry that there's a possibility that I can't give you those beautiful endings just like you wanted. I don't deserve you, but still, I won't have it any other way.

We have the most complicated but the most exquisite story, don't we? It is just like so many years ago, when you'd run and I'd chase after you, I'd hide and you'd look for me. You'd cry and I'd dry your tears, I'd cry and you'd cry with me. I'd get bruises and you'd heal me, you'd get hurt and I'd kiss it all better. You'd fall and I'd catch you, I'd fall and you'd fall on your knees to be with me. You'd shout at me and I'd shout back, but when I'd kiss you, you'd still kiss me back, anyway. You'd hit me and I'd let you because I deserved it. But you'd still love me anyway, just how much I'd love you back, even more.

But this is yours and mine and no one else would ever understand, for nothing like this ever happened to them. Ending is of no sense at all, my princess; for this is our story, and with that, it is forever. It will always be somehow.

You are my sweet madness, the fairy I've caught in that beautiful garden. I don't ever want to let you go. Your wings are so hauntingly beautiful, I don't want to let go. But if I have to, for you to finally fly, for you to finally be happy, I will.

You are my princess, my angel, my heart.

I will love you eternally, until my last breath. Never forget.

Pinky promise.

Draco


	46. If You Don't Come Home

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Six**

"**If You Don't Come Home"**

"_Be strong, my angel. Whatever you do, never give up. You're allowed to cry. Tears can be drained but remember that they're also just water. Take a sip at a random fountain and you will have them back. But the light in you, my sweet, that flaming zeal and eager desire that you have, it will take you far. Never give it up. Stand up to your principles. Love the people you want to love. Dream the dreams you dream. Own them if you must. But most importantly, never step on people along the way. Stand up for what you think is right._ _A wild flower survives and endures, as stubborn as it may seem. Be like a wildflower, little Hermione. And you will see, even the wind will bow down to you."_

Nanny Demelza once told her this; and little Hermione believed it so greatly.

It was only years later, however, that she finally understood.

She was the wildflower, and Draco was the wind.

But what if, along the way, the wind dies down? Everything would go back to normal. Everything would be quiet once again. The butterflies would continue with their usual job of scattering pollens everywhere to make those flowers grow. The sun would shine again. Everything would be content and happy.

But then, that was it; like a journey being stopped.

When she was younger, every time she rode a carriage with her mother during their travels to certain gatherings, she'd happily look outside. She would lay her head by the window of the door to feel the wind gently slapping her face along the way. She would look up and see the beautiful moving terrain, would feel the cold wind that was laying simple, damp kisses on her cheeks.

She'd always wish it would never end, until it would, as usual. And the feeling of loneliness in the middle of reality would sink in once again, once the carriage stopped.

She often wished beautiful things wouldn't end. But they had to.

They had to, in order to create a memory.

If she wasn't seated on the couch, she was sure she would have staggered with little Cepheus to the ground.

The pain was too difficult to endure; she was losing it.

She was crying so hard she wasn't sure she could still breathe. All the feasible oxygen she needed in her body seemed to disappear, in the same vein of someone knocking her out with a hammer to her gut. Her head was pounding at an unworkable speed, like it was programmed to work that way, to continually hurt her in each strike, again, and again, and again…

_"To thank my husband, you say? Why?"_

_"He spared my life," Nesha replied._

_"Come again?" _

_"Graham said it's maybe because I resemble you in some way. But he also said Malfoy doesn't really want to get his hands dirty if he can help it. Graham said he's good at everything, except the killing part."_

_"W-What do you mean by that?"_

_"Well, for one thing, Malfoy organizes everything. He is quick and powerful. Graham told me that in a hunt he'd always capture as many as anybody else. Graham wants to be as good as him. He's an excellent tracker, always the best of the best. He leads his men as it's expected of him. He is my master's master, after all. But Graham said he refuses to do anything dirty if he can help it. He kills at times, but he prefers watching and commanding. Graham said he has a reason."_

…

Draco… The boy by the pond, her little Draco, her gentle wind, her slow dying flower…

She couldn't help but cry for him. Cry for how he was once so innocent, so pure, and how the people around him polluted that. He didn't want to be in this position. He was _forced_ to be in the story that he didn't belong to. They broke him beyond repair, but he still struggled to get back, even on the brink of dying.

How did she not see the signs? How could she have been so blinded by her hatred towards him?

_..._

_"I just need my best friend now, Blaise," she heard Draco say._

_"Best friend? You have a new best friend. You consult __him__, not me."_

_"But you're still with us."_

_"You trust __him __too much."_

_"You know why."_

_..._

He was talking about Theo, whom he had always hated. But he accepted him, listened to him, and even asked for his help, all for her sake. If there was anyone who had the greatest pride, then it would be Draco. But he swallowed all that _for her_.

He had struggled to make everything right _for her_.

But there she was by the shadows, silently condemning him.

She was so sure. She was so damn sure of his agenda. And she hated him.

But all along, she hated him for nothing.

...

_"You don't understand. It's Crabbe. He's the traitor. This whole charade is __over__. Our group is hunting him now but he's protected by his side. You need to go and explain, Draco. They're giving you a __chance__."_

_"I-I can't go, Blaise."_

"_This is important, Draco! She'll be okay. She has your medi-witch but if you don't show up, the allegations aimed at you will be confirmed and sooner or later, your head will be hanging on that bloody prison cell!"_

_"You know I can't go!"_

_"It will be over for you, for __this__, if you don't!"_

_"Tell them to wait."_

_"This __can't __wait. You're wanted __now__."_

_"Do what you can. I trust you, Blaise. You know I can't leave Hermione now."_

_"You __choose. __Leave her now and see her later, or stay with her now, die, and leave her and your child forever."_

_"I'm not leaving her, Blaise. It's final and you can't make me."_

_"You'll regret this when you're buried six feet below the ground, Draco. But don't say I didn't warn you."_

…

_"Are you certain that the shields are strong enough?" Draco said._

_"It's not a problem," Theo replied. "Our problem is—"_

_"Just tell me that the shields are strong enough, Theo," Draco uttered irately while pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose like he had a terrible headache._

_"I'm very sure. We have conjured it to the highest limit. It protects the boundaries of the __whole __manor grounds. Nothing and no one can break in without dying," Theo told him in assurance._

_"You know I have a son and a wife inside. They can't take them."_

_"I am aware."_

_"I need another week, Theo. Did you tell them that?"_

_"Yes, I did."_

_"Good."_

_"But I didn't say they agreed to it."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"It can't wait anymore," Theo confessed apologetically._

_"What about just another day?"_

_"You have to go tomorrow," Theo resolutely affirmed._

_"Not even a fucking day? You're useless when it comes to finding the middle ground."_

…

_"Crabbe is dead."_

_"Our group finally found him?"_

_"No."_

_"Then who killed him?" _

_"They did."_

_"He needed to die. He needed to pay for his betrayal. But I thought it was going to be our lot to end his life. I just can't believe that they killed him after his service, after turning his back on us just for them; Bloody hypocrites."_

_"He was our friend, one of us, our brother."_

_"But he is foolish. Draco gave him the choice but he wouldn't listen. He is better off dead now. That's his lesson __learned."_

…

_"Why can't you just let it go? I'm doing everything to protect you and my son!"_

_"You kill people __every day to the point __that it seems like a hobby to you! Why should I even trust you?" _

_"You don't know what you're saying." _

…

_"Hermione, please don't… please don't."_

_"Please don't what, Draco?"_

_"Please don't leave me. __Please__…"_

…

Every memory, every word, every statement… every truth was insanely whirling inside her.

Hermione wailed, clutching Cepheus for dear life as if someone was about to take him away from her as well.

She was so blinded. But she deserved all this hurt. She deserved it for not believing enough in him.

Adrian was instantly at her side to console her while Theo was staring at her with an indistinguishable expression.

"Oh, dear Hermione… It's alright, come, my sweet. You just need some rest," Molly sighed while gently ushering the shaking girl to stand up. Little Cepheus was crying harder and clutching her tightly, almost as if he knew what was happening. Adrian then tenderly took him from his sobbing mother and gave him to the older woman. Little Cepheus squirmed and screamed in protest for being taken away from his mummy, but later calmed down when Molly swayed him back and forth, cooing gentle words to soothe him.

The older woman couldn't help but feel sorry for the little one. It was clear just how the little angel was so attached to his mother. When she cries, it upsets him as well. It was strange, as, technically, he didn't understand or know anything yet, but Molly knew that little Cepheus would be every bit like his father someday. Hermione was lucky to have this kind of love. It was complicated. It was never simple. But it was the most genuine thing Molly had ever seen in her entire life.

If all else failed, at the end of the day, Hermione was loved, Hermione was protected, Hermione was sheltered… all because of Draco Malfoy.

"You can't just leave Draco out there! Please do something! I don't want to lose my husband, please! Let me go and help him!" Hermione sputtered desperately, now slightly stumbling towards Theo who caught her just before she collapsed to the floor.

She was hysterical. She was babbling incoherent words and crying so vehemently, she almost stopped breathing. She didn't even know what she was saying or doing anymore. All she wanted to do was to get out of there and fight by her husband's side, to make sure he was alright, to show him just how much she loved him back, to show him that she would never, ever replace him, and that she would die for him as well.

She had wanted him dead before. She had hated him to the point of wanting him to just disappear so she could run away. But now that she was here, free… but strangely all alone, stranded in that place that she had wanted for herself, all she wanted to do was to run back and tell him to take her.

"Hermione, please calm down," Theo pleaded, supporting her waist so she wouldn't descend to the floor. She was clutching the tearstained, crumpled letter on her chest now, almost like it was her life.

"I can't calm down! I love him, Theo! Please! I love him so much! Take me to him!" She cried as Theo held her into his arms.

"I know, I know… sshh, it's okay. Draco is a fighter. I know he can make it. We can make it, Hermione. The horcruxes are already gone. Draco and Potter know what they're doing now that they have gotten rid of the obstacles in the way. There is no stopping now," he whispered gently into her ear, unable to stop himself from kissing her hair a little bit too lovingly.

If there was any indication that Hermione ever felt the drawn out kiss that had lingered a little bit longer, then it didn't show. She was too lost with the letter she had just read that she was unmindful of the people, even of the man so obviously in love, that was with her in the moment. She just lay there, crying in his arms, so unaware of the fact that the man holding her was hurting inside as well.

Then, she had to say it. "I have never loved anyone like him, Theo. I will never love anyone the way I love him. He told me in the letter that if he doesn't come back, I should continue with my life and find another to make me happy. But I'll never be happy without him! I'll live for Cepheus but I'll never find anyone to replace him. He's the only man I've ever loved my entire life and I'll fight no matter what to keep him. My heart will die without him. I need him."

She continued crying into Theo's arms while he just stood there, unable to utter a single word in return. Adrian was looking at Theo, almost like he expressed sympathy for the man, but more so in the way that he understood.

"Take her to her room. She needs to rest," Theo finally muttered before pushing the disheveled, still-sobbing girl into Adrian's arms.

"Theo..." Adrian started, but stopped when the other man just walked out and went directly to the fireplace without even a glance back.

Adrian stared at the sobbing girl in his arms and knew that she was too broken to care. He should understand. Draco had always been the only man in her life. He knew that his little Hermione had always been in love with Draco Malfoy. Even if the world lost its gravity, it would always be that way. She was so unaware of everything else— of anyone who could ever harbor a great amount of feelings for her—because all along, she only looked at one person alone; because all along, there was really only Draco Malfoy and no other.

That truth hurt. But somehow, being with Theo and looking at the scars on his neck, Adrian had somehow realised just how much pain it had caused Theo than the one that he had. At least he had somehow accepted the fact that Hermione had always considered her as her brother and it would always be that way. But Theo's case was different. He had known that there were times when Hermione had given Theo some hope. He knew that they had gone out on dates before, and how Hermione had asked him to accompany her to the Slug Club party, and how, in a certain juncture, they had kissed and she had promised him that she would give them a chance.

Theo did everything to get her back. He could have died the night he decided to go to Draco's lair to confront him. If Draco didn't love Hermione enough, or if he was too obsessed to see reason, Theo would have died right then. He just presented himself to the death-eaters by going to Montague's ball. It was the same as running into a field in front of a firing squad.

But he did all that for Hermione.

And now she had given him her rejection. And she didn't even care because she wasn't aware of it, because she didn't know. She always didn't know.

"Adrian, please… Take me to Draco. Please…"

"Come now, Mione. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay," he whispered while ushering the sobbing girl towards the room upstairs. Molly had already gone to take little Cepheus to bed.

Just like so many years ago it was always him, her big brother, who would console her and take her away from anything that was upsetting her. And he was thankful to her for allowing that gesture, for that familiar comfort that she was letting him give her.

Hermione was trying to walk with him, oblivious of everything except her grief; until a sudden blast from the fireplace completely took their attention.

Right there, wounded and bloodied, was Seamus Finnigan.

He looked delirious and tattered, almost as if he had been chewed and spat out from the fireplace as blood and soot covered his body. One wouldn't really know which one was which.

"Oh shit! Seamus!" Adrian ran into the wounded combatant, who was struggling to say something despite his current state.

"I-I got it bad. The others pushed me into the network so I could go back and be treated. I didn't want to, but they—"

"What the fuck are you even thinking? Of course you needed to come back! You know we can't afford losing anyone now. Hang on, I'll get you to Nesha and Daphne," Adrian said worriedly while tucking the wounded man's arms around his shoulder to shepherd him into one of the rooms downstairs.

Hermione stood, shaking and unnoticed at the side, shocked with the realizations suddenly being jammed onto her.

Did she hear it right? Nesha was here? As well as Daphne? Daphne Greengrass?

Hermione hurried to help and she took Seamus' other arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. The wounded man noticed and smiled at her. "Hey Hermione," he said in a friendly manner before grimacing in pain.

Hermione quietly smiled back at him, still with tears on her cheeks. It was amazing how he could still smile back at her even with those impossibly excruciating injuries over his body.

It was amazing how Draco could stay so strong, so confident even when he knew that everything wasn't alright, even when he was wounded, even when the familiar taste of poison was already leaving his lips.

Draco…

He was out there.

He could be wounded or dying. She shook her head and buried the thought inside her mind. She was dying slowly just by thinking about it. Inch by inch, every second of being away from him pained her. She was scared for him, she was scared for them. She would never be at peace if she couldn't touch his face again and know that he was still breathing.

Her thoughts stopped when they were inside a room that was somewhat transfigured into a small infirmary. There were four beds in the room and all were already occupied, the fourth bed being shared by two people whom she recognized to be two of the Ravenclaws in her year.

Seamus needed to be placed into the second bed, with the person having lesser injuries than the others. She was aware that the person was her old housemate and fellow prefect, Padma Patil.

She was asleep on a high back rest, with an arm sling immobilizing her forearm.

When Adrian and Hermione had successfully placed Seamus on the bed next to Padma, the door opened, revealing Daphne with little Nesha tagging behind. The two girls looked exhausted as they carried their medical trays inside.

"Hermione!" Nesha almost let go of her medical tray when she saw the new occupant. She placed her tray on the nearest table so she could run into her friend. Hermione held the weeping girl tightly in her arms.

"Graham said I should stay here and wait for you. Oh, Hermione! You just don't know how worried I was for you!" The girl cried into her arms as Hermione kissed her hair gently.

"Nesha, we have so much to do. Gather your supplies and give me a hand here," Daphne suddenly ordered the younger girl, smugly ignoring Hermione as she continued her work with Seamus' deeper wounds.

"Yes, Daphne," Nesha seemed eager to comply, which looked like both somehow had a good relationship towards each other.

"Do you want me to take you upstairs with Molly and your baby?" Adrian asked Hermione gently while placing a comforting hand on her back.

Hermione shook her head. She knew Cepheus was in good hands with the older lady, and she wanted to help in anyway she could. "No, I think I'll stay here."

"Are you sure?" Adrian sounded worried.

Hermione knew she was damn tired of crying and she was only going to do it again upstairs when everything was quiet. And she wanted to help…

It seemed that everyone was doing their best to fight this war, to contribute for their side. And she knew that for Draco, for her son, she would do everything in her power to do so as well.

"Alright, I have to go now. I'll see you later, okay?" Adrian told her, kissing her hair. He nodded towards Daphne and Nesha before leaving.

"I need more of those herbs, Nesha. Can you get them for me?" Daphne said distractedly while working hard on Seamus' ghastly slash by the ribs. She needed to sedate him and had to put him to sleep in order to keep him from deliriously screaming and thrashing around.

Hermione stood there, watching Daphne, not really sure what she should do. Her fingers were itching to help. She didn't have a wand still, but she knew she could somehow help in brewing. She'd always been good in the healing area, even once being commended by her Headmistress Madame Maxime, telling her that she would be a great healer or potioneer someday.

She didn't know why Daphne was here. Draco had mentioned in the letter just how much her family was terrified of the dark lord, doing everything to be under his graces just to survive. A move like this from their eldest daughter could really result in something horrible. Suddenly, she felt great respect and admiration for the girl.

"I'm doing all this for Blaise, so don't look at me as if we're not the same," Daphne vehemently snapped at her as she stood up and walked towards a counter where the brewed potions were placed, noticing that Hermione had been staring at her in a pensive manner.

Daphne still looked aristocratic and flawless, like the squeamish little princess that she was way back then. She still had her most expensive robe on, and her blonde hair was still ridiculously straight and untangled, like silk. Hermione remembered once when Blaise had wanted to take her for a broom ride and she refused just because she didn't want the wind to ruin her precious hair.

But then, here she was…

She appeared out of place, but Hermione still couldn't deny the fact that she was placing her life and her family's life on the line by being here.

"This needs mint sprigs and stewed Mandrake, about two measures," Hermione told her, going into the table and improvising the healing potion that was seated near them. After a couple of minutes of patient brewing, Hermione offered it to Daphne to give to the half-unconscious patient. It sputtered out of Seamus' mouth for a while, but it effectively calmed him down and placed him in a peaceful sleep.

By then, they worked together quietly, neither one saying a single thing. Daphne seemed to accept her presence as it helped a lot with Seamus' progress. When Nesha came back, she was asked to fetch more bezoar by Daphne again.

"You broke my sister's heart, you know," Daphne finally said when Nesha was finally gone.

Hermione looked up from her work to stare at her, but stayed quiet nonetheless.

"She was Draco's fiancée, but he never once noticed her, going off with other girls instead, just because he couldn't have you," Daphne whispered, enough to let her companion hear as she delicately sat down, suddenly pouring herself a tea as if they weren't in the middle of the war but on a lazy, indolent afternoon. It appeared she had left Hermione to continue the work so she could scrutinize her.

"But then, you've always been the better girl, the one everybody wants to take home and keep at the end of the day. I guess we all should have just gotten used to that," Daphne continued while shrugging in nonchalance, crossing her legs and tossing her hair the way she always used to back at school.

"What are you—?"

"Will you just _stop_ it already? You act like you're so unaware of your effect on people and it just annoys the hell out of me! I _hate_ you! And I hate everything you do and how you can make it seem so effortless but still get the best of everything! I hate that your blood is inferior compared to mine, but you just have to be damn perfect every time even if you have no right to!" Daphne suddenly shouted as she stood up and threw her cup of tea on the ground. "You're just so bloody good at everything, it doesn't suit you! You have the dirtiest blood there ever is! You don't even deserve your magic! You're just a mudblood bitch and—"

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione shouted back, trying her very best to stop the tears from falling again. "You don't have the right to insult or judge me that way because you don't know anything about the hell I've gone through!"

"Oh you're speaking of that, aren't you? The _hell_ you went through? What _hell_? Of being kept inside a huge mansion, being pampered and spoiled rotten, while others suffer outside? You have Draco to do everything for you! I have a family to protect, a little sister to console, a mother who always cries at night and a father who always ends up going home wounded and blood-spattered! I'm constantly worried for their safety, while you have Draco to monitor your muggle parents."

"W-What are you talking about? Draco never cared about my muggle parents. He hates—"

"With the help of Blaise, Draco relocated the Grangers to Australia so the Dark Lord couldn't touch them. They even helped the Puceys as well and relocated them outside of Europe just to let them escape the dark lord's demands to all pureblood families, so they could get away from the fate that my family received. All because he knows you care for them. Every day I prayed that the Dark Lord would get too busy to even remember getting favours from my family because we don't have the protection that your families have! Blaise was too busy following your husband's orders to protect _you_! _You_, Hermione, _not me_!"

"D-Daphne…"

"What is so damn spectacular about you? Your blood is practically filth, and yes, you're attractive, but you're not even as pretty as I am!" Daphne screamed at her, with silent tears creeping down her flawless, mannequin-like face, which was once so untouched and unblemished. Hermione had never seen her so vulnerable like this, so broken… so human.

"Daphne, I—"

"Back at school, you never noticed how guys practically drooled over you just because you're the girl they couldn't have. Draco was ready to torture anyone who ever laid a single finger on you. He'd proudly walk you around with an arm around your waist, looking like he owned a diamond in the rough. All the boys wanted you so much, I can't even understand it. Even Blaise wanted the idea of you, of just how untouchable you were. Our relationship was so young. I didn't think it would even last. Nothing lasted between my past relationships anyway, and Blaise considered me as his intimate friend, nothing more. We flirted all the time, you know, until we started on having sex just for the fun of it. We were friends with benefits and we both enjoyed it for a while. Until one night, he told me about you…

"He was a bit tipsy when he told me how pretty I was. People always compliment me on my looks, but that night, it seemed important for me to hear those from him. But then, he mentioned _you_; how he liked the idea that you bring. He's not in love with you but he loves the idea of you, of how pure you are, of how unattainable you are, of how you can be beyond his reach because you are his best friend's girl and of how you've never been anyone else's.

"He said he wanted a girl like that, you know, like you. He told me he may have the time of his life someday, rebel against his mother and throw his galleons away for beautiful women. But he said he wanted to settle quietly after that, to find and marry a girl that no one can attain, no one had ever touched, someone he could call his own… pure, untainted, someone like his best friend's girl, someone like _you_. And I hated you back then. I hated you because I couldn't be like that. And I saw it there, right there, in his eyes, that he was telling me those things because he wanted me to be that girl, to be like _you_.

"I was not a bitch. _I am not_ a bitch. But he saw me as that. Yes, I have slept with guys before Blaise. I had some flings with his friends, including Draco at some point, but I have feelings too, you know. When Blaise told me that, it was like he practically said it to my face that I was dirty. But I am not like that. I am not _all that_. When Draco punished us because of what Pansy, Tracey and I did to you, Blaise never stood up for me. He couldn't protect me because I wasn't the pure, virgin girl he'd planned to marry someday. He just stood there as I cried and pleaded. He even helped to tie me up with the others, had even almost punished me. Days later, he apologized, but told me I deserved it for hurting someone so damn innocent like _you_ are."

Hermione was shocked beyond belief.

She didn't know all this. She felt like she'd been imprisoned inside a beautiful cave, only staring at the fake shadows along the walls, hating what was outside even if she never truly had a glimpse of it.

"Draco… never told me any of this," Hermione whispered, embracing herself as she started trembling.

"Of course he didn't tell you. He's protecting you beyond anything you deserve, something that Blaise will never really do for me," Daphne told her quietly after a long silence.

"Draco told me in his letter that Blaise is furious with me because Draco's plans for my protection can harm you and your family. He nearly backed out and betrayed Draco for you," Hermione told her sincerely.

The blonde looked at her for a minute, studying her genuine expression, before turning away cautiously. "He did that, huh?"

Hermione nodded. "He loves you, Daphne. I know he does because—"

"Why the hell are you like that?" The blonde suddenly snapped at her, with her hands flying in the air in great annoyance. "Why don't you just shove it to my face that I can't be loved? That you're really better than I am? Have you even forgotten what my friends and I did to you back then? Are you just _that_ forgiving? Why the hell can't you hate me as well?"

"Because I don't hate you," Hermione whispered. "I hate what you and your friends did to me and Ginny, but I don't hate you, or them. It's not justifiable to hate a person because of something that he or she did once. One act doesn't really constitute who you are."

"You're ridiculous. You can be the smartest witch of our age, but sometimes, you're just plain stupid," Daphne shook her head in exasperation.

Hermione ignored her. "The fact that you know what you did was wrong makes you better than what you think of yourself. There is a reason why Blaise loves you just as there is a reason why Draco loves me. You're beautiful and the fact that you stand up and face a more dangerous path because of your love for Blaise makes you even more beautiful. You're a brave woman, Daphne. And I admire you for that."

Daphne was quiet for a while. Everything was tensed until she smiled back at Hermione.

It was a sad smile, but still a smile. "It's funny how we got here, you know," she said as if she were talking to irony itself. "I miss the way it used to be. I'd trade everything just to get that normalcy back, you know. I'd even attend all those boring classes if I had to. This war just… sucks."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

It was silent once again until Daphne spoke softly, "I'm so sorry about what we did. I'm so sorry about everything, about Ginny… and about what happened to her. Blaise said they didn't mean it to happen. Things just got out of hand."

"I know. Draco told me."

"Draco… he loves you so much, you know," Daphne told her softly. "So much that he's really prepared to do anything for you."

"I know," Hermione whispered, trying hard to steady her breathing.

"I guess Blaise and I thought that I wanted someone like Draco and Blaise wanted someone like you. But in truth, we just want your relationship and we seem to fight for that but we just couldn't attain that level of commitment that you have for each other. Draco would die for you, but I doubt Blaise would ever do that for me. I know you would die for Draco, but I'm selfish enough to run away if I have to just to save myself. You see, you and Draco… you're just meant for each other. Don't lose it, Hermione."

"I won't. I promise I won't," Hermione whispered, knowing fully what she'd do now.

She was as stubborn as a wildflower, and like a wildflower's petals, she'd chase the wind to make it stay.

If he couldn't come home, she'd go out and chase him.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Same Ground" by Kitchie Nadal. It's a very beautiful, sad song from my country. I recommend you to listen to it. This is what Hermione exactly feels now.**

* * *

**A/N: **

**Much love, kisses and **_**super**_** hugs to my new beta reader '****EchoDeltaNine****', who beta'd this chapter! She's amazing! ****I just sent her my finished work yesterday and when I opened my mail now, the grammatical and typographical errors are all cleaned up and done (with track changes) plus with reviews about the use of words, phrases and the chapter overall. In only a day, I'd be able to officially upload my 46th chapter. I can't ask for anything better, thank you so much!**

**And… I know, I know. This update is just **_**very**_** late and it's my entire fault. I'm so sorry about it! :( But summer has officially started in my place. Well, almost everyday is sunny here (if there are no storms), but when summer **_**officially**_** starts, everything and everyone gets so busy packing their things to go here and there. **

**I went to the mountains with my friends for a bath in the spring, then, I'll go to the beach, and then hike the mountains again for a bath along the waterfalls. I live in a country that is composed of more than 7,107 tropical islands (with some magical islands disappearing during high tides), and it's just **_**insane**_** on how you just have to discover anything and everything. Once, I went into a white beach island resort so small that you can really circle around by foot for only about 10 minutes. I wish I won't end up looking like a burnt toast after all of this is over, haha! But I got a lot of inspirations in the places for my future Dramione stories so I hope you can forgive me. **

**God bless guys and thanks for everything. **

**PS: I'm really, **_**really**_** so sorry for the late chapter! You know I feel guilty when I do that. I wish you're not mad at me. I'll try so hard to update sooner. I'm so SORRY! :(**

**Love, Sue**


	47. Broken Fissures

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

**"Broken Fissures****"**

"_I cannot fix on the hour, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."_

_Jane Austen_

"H-Hermione!" Nesha was heard calling in sudden panic.

Later that night, Cepheus had been so incredibly cranky and prickly that Molly needed to replace Hermione in helping Daphne in taking care of the wounded members just so Hermione could comfort Cepheus who wasn't used to being too far away from his mother for that long.

Cepheus was quite hyper and agitated, not wanting to be away from his mother even for a second, so Daphne sent Nesha to be with Hermione to help her as well, stating that she and Molly could deal with the recent injuries for the meantime.

Hermione was still inside the loo when she heard the commotion. She'd only been a minute away and Nesha sounded like she was in trouble. It sounded urgent.

"What happened?" Hermione asked nervously, almost toppling down to the tiled flooring as she hurried towards the room.

What she saw, however, almost made her frown and smile at the same time.

Nesha was juggling little Cepheus, bouncing him up and down in an attempt to calm him down. The little tot was pulling on her hair and struggling to get out of her arms, shrieking and crying like there was no tomorrow. Little Cepheus could be the sweetest baby in the world, but he could also throw the greatest tantrum in history if his patience was tested.

"I-I'm so sorry, Hermione. He's so upset. He misses you too much when you're not around. I can't calm him down. I don't know how to," Nesha blushed, sounding apologetic.

"It's okay, Nesha," Hermione smiled. Nesha looked like a little girl. She was still a little girl, after all. She was only turning fifteen. But it appeared that she was really trying her best to take good care of spoiled little Cepheus. The scene was adorable.

"Thanks for watching him for me," Hermione continued while gathering the squirming little cherub into her arms. Cepheus instantly clung to his mummy like a caterpillar needing to be inside his cocoon; his cries muffling into soft tiny gurgles on her chest, almost as if his mummy betrayed him by abandoning him for the loo.

"Oh, I know, I know, baby. Hush now, okay? Mummy is here now. Yes, I know, I'm so sorry," Hermione cooed while kissing his head softly, swaying him in her arms. Cepheus seemed to recognize the familiar gesture and started to calm down.

"He loves you so much," Nesha smiled in wonder at little Cepheus who was then very content being in his mother's arms. "And he looks so much like Malfoy," she blurted out innocently, not noticing Hermione's sudden tensed expression as she caressed her baby's thin, downy blonde hair that was standing and straying in all directions like soft electric bolts.

"Graham told me that the time when Malfoy thought you died along with those flames in the Slug Club party, he died with you. He didn't eat and almost killed himself with those liquors. He turned into a monster, killing people here and there. Graham told me once, that maybe without you, Draco would have had chosen a different path. It's amazing, you know, Hermione… because it seems like, he was created for you and you for him, to save him," Nesha smiled quietly at her. "You were made to save each other."

Hermione felt her heart racing. This tiny feeling of swelling along her tear ducts seemed to irritate again. Her heart still felt incredibly painful, like it was bruised, like cupid really annihilated it with actual arrows.

But she just couldn't cry again. It would only upset her little Cepheus. She knew that he missed his daddy just as much as she missed him.

She had a child to protect, a child who loved her so dearly and whose whole world revolved around her and her husband.

If only Draco was here, she'd know what to do.

_"You fight when you're sad. You fight when you're afraid. But you don't cry, Princess. Not ever. Remember that."_

Draco…

He was always the one who seemed to take the bullet for her. He was always the stronger one for them.

When she would try to pick the roses, he would make sure to pluck the thorns out in advance. When she'd run stubbornly into a dark alley, he'd run ahead and trip for her just so she'd never get hurt. When she felt like crying, he'd hold her still so she'd stop. When she was scared of thunder, he'd close the windows and cover them with linens only so it could appease her.

When someone would even try to hurt her, he'd kill to take vengeance.

He was always the one fighting, the one bleeding.

When would she finally fight for him as well?

"Tell me about the status of the war, Nesha," Hermione suddenly whispered quietly. "Did Montague tell you anything?"

"No. Graham said he doesn't want me to meddle with businesses like that, but I hear things during some of the Order's meetings," Nesha replied, cautiously looking around before she quietly continued. "I heard that they've claimed Hogwarts back and are now protecting it with all their might. They said that it boosted the morale of the members. Hogwarts was one of the Death Eaters' trophies, and now it's ours again. You-know-who is furious knowing that his horcruxes have been destroyed."

"The Death Eaters are all trying to break back into the portals of Hogwarts," Nesha added. "I heard that they've managed to create a hole through it, which is the reason why Malfoy and the others are gathered near that tiny gap, guarding it to their highest limit, like placing pressure on a certain opened wound to stop it from ripping apart. But everyone knows that sooner or later, all the shields are just going to explode.

"You-Know-Who's loyal supporters are not giving up, especially because of what Malfoy did to them. Graham says it's only a matter of time, since they won't stop until the shields are finally broken. Seamus is an example of that fight. What I don't understand is why they're trying to prolong everything. Once all the shields are broken, the real war is going to start. I believe that the Order is much stronger now, with Malfoy's recruits as addition, and with You-Know-Who being weaker from all the horcruxes they've destroyed. I think we might have a chance to win this. Why not just end it now, then?"

"They're using attrition, wear and tear," Hermione softly nodded.

"What do you mean, Hermione?"

"They're trying to exhaust the Death Eaters with a preliminary skirmish in protecting that single hole from the barrier," Hermione explained. "A classic, overly-used tactic, but it often works. They're not really protecting the castle, Nesha. Yes, it boosts the morale of the members, but the real truth is they're _using_ it to wear the defenses of the Death Eaters, as well as studying their tactics in a way. The Death Eaters are too angered by the fact that the Order has claimed the castle back and the Order is using that to their advantage."

"How do you know?"

"Hogwarts has an impregnable protection barrier," Hermione replied. "A single body that crosses the barrier disintegrates in a second. It expands in its perimeter walls, and knowing Draco, I know that he had helped in doubling the summoned shields, if it's really true that until now it hasn't been fully broken down. He's been trained by the Dark Lord and he knows the loopholes somehow. Draco will go to the extremes if he has to. Cepheus and I weren't protected and kept safe inside his manor that long for nothing. Because the Dark Lord broke down the walls of the Manor by using a shield penetration spell, Draco is clever enough not to use that same shield again at Hogwarts when he knows that the Dark Lord was able to disintegrate it around our Manor."

"So you're saying that protecting Hogwarts isn't really their main agenda?" Nesha asked.

"They're not protecting Hogwarts, Hogwarts is _protecting them_, helping them to wear out the enemies actually. The Dark Lord's followers are trying, by all means, to break in as ordered. They're draining their powers to break the strongest wards in history, made by both light and dark magic, exhausting themselves in the process; while Draco and the others wait inside. The concern of the Death Eaters is to break the _whole_ barrier, while the only concern of the Order is to protect that single hole, effectively killing a soul near it by gathering into that certain gap. It's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord finally figures it all out and breaks the whole barrier, but by that time, his troops will be weaker, thus giving advantage to our side, securing our win if possible," Hermione explicated with assurance. "My husband knows what he's doing."

Nesha nodded in awe, looking at her companion with great admiration and respect. "It's weird, but somehow, I think you and Malfoy really think the same."

Hermione kept quiet, choosing to play with Cepheus instead, who was trying to get her attention by pulling on her hair and touching her face.

"I have to get him back, Nesha," Hermione suddenly whispered after a long silence. "I have to get my husband back."

"They won't let you, you know," Nesha told her softly. "Strict orders from Malfoy."

"I may be his wife, but I don't take orders from him," Hermione told her firmly.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Please explain to me how your floo network works. The security in Hogwarts is astoundingly strong. It's clear that Hogwarts has an Anti-Disapparation Jinx, and we all know that floo networks are controlled by the level six of the Ministry, and You-Know-Who has already infiltrated it," Hermione said while balancing Cepheus who was still too ratty and hyper to sleep.

"Graham mentioned that they're using Umbridge's old office as it's the only Floo connection in Hogwarts that is not under observation as she was employed by the Ministry of Magic. It's a fact she foolishly mentioned to Harry Potter once and has been used since to connect to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and now here at the Burrow. So Graham told me that it's the only Floo connection they didn't block. It's the only connection for sending their wounded soldiers here," Nesha informed her.

"So anyone from here can access it?" Hermione asked.

"No," Nesha shook her head. "For security purposes, Malfoy and the others have tapped with the network, improvising it, so only the most important members of the Order can use it. This includes the combatant population, but never us."

"What do you mean?" Hermione urged on.

"Well, the Order has categorized its members. Malfoy doesn't want to risk anything and give full advantage to those who might betray them; he's still very sensitive to what happened to his childhood friend, Crabbe. So he has only given authority to the floo network to those who are _really_ trusted by the Order. He's really good at Legimency, you know, and he knows those who still doubt," Nesha replied. "Not that anyone would try to betray him when he's _that_ powerful now."

"So you're saying that without the Order's permission, we can't use the Floo network?" Hermione frowned at her.

Nesha shook her head. "Daphne tried to use it before to help, but it was blocked. She and Zabini had a huge argument about it, but he just really wants her safe above all. Same goes with Graham towards me. And Harry Potter doesn't allow Molly as well. He loves her dearly, because she is Ginny Weasley's mum."

"But what about for emergencies?" Hermione asked further.

"Well, a member who's allowed to navigate and travel can always bring a person along. The network is tapped to be directly connected to Hogwarts alone so once one is pushed inside, it will work like a portkey going to Umbridge's room unlike any other ordinary Floo networks, again, for security purposes and for emergencies such as what happened to Seamus," Nesha replied before stopping to fretfully stare at her. "Hermione, why are you… asking me about it?"

"Nothing, Nesha, I'm just curious," Hermione told her reassuringly while she shrugged and hugged Cepheus next to her. She kissed his head lovingly as he continued to wriggle and grumble incoherent words.

Hermione laughed at him fondly, and this seemed to end the conversation. Both girls then played with little Cepheus who seemed eager to play tickle games with them. He always wanted all the attention and he was happy mummy was finally giving that to him again. About twenty minutes later, Cepheus started getting all cranky and impatient again so Hermione fed and nursed him to sleep.

Nesha, being new to the entire babysitting was exhausted and, after a while, slept as well, leaving Hermione to watch them contentedly by the bed.

Hermione stayed there for a while, doing nothing but just stare at the two persons she had come to love so much. She loved Cepheus more than her life. He was everything that was good in this world.

Nesha was her little sister, her little Ginny. She always looked so angelic. But staring at her like this, when she was in dreamland, Hermione really couldn't help to feel sad for her, having lost her innocence at this very young age. If people would look at it, Graham Montague had taken advantage of the war to wrap her around his fingers, to take her when no one was there to save her…

But then again, without Montague, Nesha would have been dead a long time ago, not to mention being played, tortured and raped as well before being killed. Hermione winced at the thought. No one deserved that kind of hell. But because of Montague, she was saved, though he really couldn't have done it without Draco's help.

Hermione felt her lips smile in irony.

Draco was considered to be the murderer who had destroyed a lot of lives, one of the roots of the war, even, as he was the one who had repaired the Hogwarts Vanishing Cabinet to allow a group of Death Eaters to enter the castle from Borgin and Burkes. He was Voldemort's right hand and most trusted apprentice. He was supposed to rule the next regime the old maniac was talking about.

But in truth, he had saved more lives than he had destroyed.

She looked at the sleeping Cepheus and kissed him gently, knowing too well that no matter what happened, someday, somehow, he'll know… that his father was a hero. She promised that.

"I love you, my angel. Please always remember that Mummy loves you. I love you so much, more than I have ever loved anyone. I'll risk my life for you. I'll give anything. And I'll get him back, baby. I'll get Daddy back for you. We love you, never forget," she whispered, kissing him good night before slowly walking out of the room, turning on the nightlight while little Cepheus dreamt of all the good things in this ruined world.

* * *

"You're going away now?" Hermione asked as she cautiously walked down the stairs. Adrian was at the living room, looking like he was gearing up to set off.

"Yes. I'm needed. The shields are starting to crumble. They need more people now more than ever," Adrian told her.

"Then let me come with you," Hermione asked him.

She had expected his answer. "You know I can't, Hermione, specific order from Draco. And even if it wasn't, I still wouldn't let you."

"Then be careful," she sighed worriedly, which surprised Adrian as she usually was just very stubborn. He supposed she was too tired to argue or do anything else. Everyone was tired.

"Please win this war, Adrian. I believe in you."

"We will. When we come back, I promise you, the Dark Lord will be dead," Adrian told her determinedly before turning around for the floo network.

Adrian was about to step inside the network when Hermione called for him again.

"Adrian?" Her voice sounded so soft, so weak, and so fragile… almost like his sweet baby sister from a long time ago; his sweet, sweet Mione, his little nymphet.

"What is it, Mione?"

"Take care of yourself, okay?" She asked him quietly.

"I will. Don't worry," Adrian smiled reassuringly at her. He was surprised when she suddenly ran straight into his arms and hugged him tightly when he stood by the hearth of the fireplace.

"No," she shook her head, still in his arms. "I won't worry…"

"…because I'm coming with you!"

He didn't see it coming.

Before he could even react, he felt his body plummeting down as he was pushed right into the core of the fireplace. Before he knew it, the floo powder was triggered and in a second, they were engulfed by enormous emerald green flames.

In only a blink of an eye, they were standing inside the ground of Hogwarts itself, inside Umbridge's once flawless room but now only covered in ruined furniture and ceramics.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Adrian was beyond furious, coughing from the soot billowing from the fireplace. "You can't stay here! You need to get back!"

"No! I won't! I want to see my husband! I want to fight with you! I just need my wand, Adrian. Where is it? I can help, you know I can. I'm capable of—"

"No! I'm done with this, come here," Adrian reprimanded while tightly pulling her arm so he could take her back to the floo. "I don't want to use any spell on you, but I swear, if—"

"No! Let go of me!" She cried as she pushed him away.

"Hermione—"

Adrian wasn't able to finish his sentence because Hermione was suddenly running away, pushing past the incredibly dirty pink, broken ceramics and conked out fixtures inside Dolores Umbridge's room.

"Shit!" Adrian cursed out loud as he ran after his little sister, who was sprinting like mad into the dark, derelict hallway, going towards the explosions.

Hermione could feel the adrenaline kicking in her system. Her heart was beating so fast, it sounded like a gong, and it hurt. But she knew she just couldn't stop, couldn't think and couldn't look back at the man screaming her name behind her.

Because she was nearing the noise and because she knew that in that noise was her husband.

"Draco!" She started screaming. She didn't care. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She had everything planned inside her mind, calculated everything even, the level of discretion, the ways she could formulate an advanced tactic to destroy the enemy, the way she would logically come within reach of everything…

But then, here she was, throwing everything away and looking like a barmy child, screaming Draco's name over and over again.

The cold, smoke-filled airstream was hitting her as she ran as fast as she could into the sounds of brutal combat, almost like she was trying to fight with the greatest tempest.

As she ran right there, it almost felt like she was indeed that wildflower, those little dandelions being taken away from their place just to chase the wind.

She could see their shadows, he could see _his_ shadow.

She was near, _so_ near…

And then, he was there, standing dominantly beyond the troops who stood there, wands in hand, protecting the hole in that almost ruined barrier, shouting powerful curses and hexes towards the single fissure that could be seen beyond the thickness of the barricade, effectively jolting any death eater that would come nearer.

And when he looked back at the sound of her cries, she just stopped.

She stopped running, stopped screaming, stopped crying… hell, she could swear she even stopped breathing.

She just stopped right there, like a timepiece being clicked to halt at a certain millisecond.

Because right then, in that certain moment, when he looked back at her with those beautiful, once abandoned grey eyes, she finally understood the meaning of it all, the gist of her very existence.

It was to love him and nothing else.

It was to chase the wind despite not knowing what was really out there, where it would take her. It was about taking a leap of faith. It was about not knowing, but believing.

Because she was in love… it was all because she loved him.

He was wearing his usual black robes, with that confident countenance as he stood. His white-blonde hair was paler than usual, if that was even possible. His muscles were tighter than they usually were; a result of all his hard work. There was a slight grayish tinge to his dirt covered skin and dark shadows under his eyes.

But he was still him. He was still her Draco.

He looked shocked as he looked back at her with his mouth slightly agape when he realized that Hermione was indeed right there, only a few inches away. She watched, mystified, as his expression turned from shock to longing to bliss to anger to frustration and to anger again.

It was beautiful.

As crazy at it sounded, in the middle of that devastated place, she just had to smile.

She ran straight into his arms, almost knocking him into the ground as she dived and attacked his mouth, not even caring that they were in the middle of the battle ground and that she could have toppled them both right into the crack of the barricade.

But he was there to catch her. He always was.

They kissed for all that they were worth, not even minding the few explosions around, and that a single Death Eater passed into the bridge of the fissure but was instantly destroyed by Snape's hex. The Death Eater screamed as he bled incessantly, brutally falling into the pit.

"What the bloody hell are you two doing?" Snape snarled heatedly at the two lovers who instantly jumped and realized that they had indeed taken the concentration of the whole group. Everyone was captured by the kiss and looked at them. If Snape wasn't attentive, the Death Eater could have passed and injured the brigade.

"What the _fucking_ hell are you doing here?" Draco ignored Snape completely and focused on the girl alone, pulling both her arms together, checking her from head to toe and looking for a single injury or scratch on her unblemished skin.

"I want to see you! I want to help too! When will be the time you'll allow me to fight for you as well?" Hermione cried. She almost sounded whiny, but she didn't care. She was capable of defending herself. If only they didn't keep her bloody wand.

"What the fuck, Adrian? Didn't I tell you to ensure that she _stays_ at the Burrow?" Draco was shouting at Adrian now, who looked truly guilty.

"I know, man, but she pushed me into the fireplace! It triggered the network," Adrian reasoned out.

"Get her back!" Draco ordered while pushing Hermione into her brother's arms like she was being a defiant little girl who shouldn't be where she was at the moment.

"I want to stay, Draco! Please—"

"Get her back, Adrian! _Now_!" Draco's voice boomed in authority. He looked so angry thathe actually looked scary. His expression reminded her of what he used to be whenever he was crossed during her stay at the manor. He was a very dominant man, always prevailing in his authority and she knew that he didn't want his orders to be ignored.

"Do you think I'll just allow you to get away from me, give me some letter and disappear just like that? No, Draco! It's not that simple!" Hermione screamed, pounding Draco on the chest with all her might, hurting him for pushing her away like this. "You always make everything so damn simple by doing what you think won't hurt me! But it hurts me too, Draco. It hurts pretty badly and it's not easy for me!"

"You don't understand!" Draco looked like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. He looked exhausted, but too heated to even stop. "It's not easy for me as well! Dammit, Hermione! I can't concentrate when you're here! Don't you know that? I promised myself never to lose you again! But somehow, I just keep on screwing up every fucking time! I just can't let anything happen, not anymore, not when it involves _you_! I have come a long way. I have worked so hard to keep you safe! _Please_, for once, just try to make it easier!"

"_For once_, just please consider what I'm feeling! I won't settle for anything without you, Draco! I have a son that I love so much back home who expects _you _to come back," she whispered while shaking her head in agony. "I don't want him growing up questioning me about what the hell I did and where I was when his father was fighting in the war. You once told me never to cry, never to give up, and to fight for what I want. I want to stay here, with _you_. I can't stay at the Burrow without dying in worry for you. I love you too much, can't you see? I love you, Draco. Please tell me you love me enough to make me stay; because I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose you. I haven't given up and I'll never give up. Please let me stay with you," she cried as she ran and embraced him softly, leaning her head into his chest and hearing the loud beat of his heart through his clothing.

"H-Hermione…"

"I want to fight with you… Please let me fight with you."

Draco was about to open his mouth to reply when a sudden powerful explosion emerged out of the minor flare-ups of hexes and launched attacks from the Death Eaters.

The air just exploded out of nowhere, and Hermione almost toppled down due to the pressure in the atmosphere as the strong twist in the air almost sent her flying through the space.

She felt Draco instantly grabbing her waist and holding her nearer in his embrace.

He wasn't looking at her, he was looking _up_.

And when she looked up, she saw why.

The entire shield, which was beforehand mostly translucent, showed small cracks, almost like they were inside a crystal ball. And then, slowly, those diminutive fractures glowed and sparked like an ignition before a fire was created between two stones.

It continued, one by one, branch by branch...

The bluish white color of what seemed like a blanket of crystals turned into what looked like a canvas of exploding lavas. It looked as if the sky was ready to fall on them.

A painful, stinging sound was heard as the cracks traveled into fissured branches, faster and faster…And then, the cracks traveled in different directions, until it halted and finally exploded.

Hermione could feel Draco's protective arm pulling her head towards his chest to shield her in safety. She tried her hardest to look up again and saw that the sky was finally clear, clearer than before, in fact.

It only took a second for her to realize why.

The shields around Hogwarts were finally disintegrated.

The real battle had only just begun.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "The Call" by Regina Spektor (such a beautiful, beautiful battle song)**

**A/N: A huge thanks to my amazing beta EchoDeltaNine for tidying this chapter up. :D **

**We are just so close to the end guys! I don't want to let this story go, I love it too much *sniff* but I have to. I'm planning at ending at chapter 50 (if it can all fit) as I always end my chapters with zero, so stay with me! Also, I'm so excited to tell you that I already have a plot bunny for my next fanfic (and I can't wait to post it!). I'm so excited but decided I won't post it until I finish this story so I can fully concentrate on this first. :D Thanks for reading and have a blessed day. **

**Love, Sue**


	48. And Then There Are Always Tears

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

"**And Then There Are Always Tears"**

* * *

"_**I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth."**_

_**-**__**Vladimir Nabokov**_

The sky was covered in sparkling, dazzling waves… like fireworks of different shades, painted magically along the firewall.

She could feel the echelon of its power as the electric airstream blustered along her face as she looked up. She was lost in the haze, like standing right under the jamboree of pinwheels. She had to hold her breath as she was almost shoved by the exceedingly powerful pressure from the broken heavens.

She felt Draco's arms tightening around her waist until it almost hurt. She could swear her skin was bruising. But he kept on hauling her away from the place where they were standing. And she knew that once the pain and pressure on her waist stopped, then she'd just die.

The roars of the battle exploded. The Death Eaters had finally broken the whole shield. From her peripheral vision, she could see the monsters streaming out in great numbers as deadly hexes flew everywhere and bodies fell into the pit, one by one… and by twos, by threes…

The whole castle was shaking in force as the light began to fight with the dark. It conjured different hues as it did so, like those fireworks being sent to the sky by those large, beautiful cruise ships in the middle of the ocean night.

Hermione could feel its stratum as its power-filled wind smacked her skin while she willed herself to continue running and to never stop.

Draco kept on pulling her to different directions and she didn't know which way they were now going. All she knew was that she couldn't stop running with him.

Draco stopped at a corner of the castle, and then rounded another one until they found themselves at one of the greenhouses with long, serpentine dragons running along the peaked roofs. The place was a ruined mess. What was once a home of many exotic and magical plants was now nothing but a vacant, ash-covered space; nothing was left.

It seemed only yesterday that she was arriving here. The first time that she got inside this greenhouse, she was running with him as well.

But everything was just too different back then. She was this beautiful Beauxbatons student… rich, sophisticated and pampered beyond belief. She could still hear her excited giggles as Draco led her into this place. It looked like a tropical paradise and it was magical for her. It was already past curfew and it was her first time to break a rule.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could still see her nervous, blithe form, running around in wonder and curiosity as she held her rebellious boyfriend's hand. He had secured her body into his own while pulling her in a deep, secret kiss…

And now, they were here once again. But those magical plants that seemed to sway with their secret were all gone now; burned into nonexistence.

She couldn't help it. She didn't know why but she just really thought everything was going to end in a single snap, to fade away just like a memory. The clock was ticking loudly and it was dangerously fast.

And so, just like so many years ago, she pulled and kissed him fiercely.

Draco was shocked by her odd behavior but kissed her back as enthusiastically anyway.

The sound of the exploding battle was getting nearer and nearer… but she couldn't care less. She _had_ to feel him, had _to be with him_, to kiss him with everything she had. She could die right there and she wouldn't care as long as he was with her.

She wished she could just freeze this moment. She wished she could just kiss him forever, like wishing the gentle sounds of rain would never stop but knowing that it really should to hamper the deluge of water from drowning everything… from killing everyone.

"I love you, Draco. If there is anything you need to know, it's the fact that I love you. You're the only man I'll ever love for the rest of my life and I won't have it any other way," she was crying now as she held into him for dear life.

"I-I love you too, I just—Fuck! I have to get you out of here!" Draco looked like he was about to burst. She'd never seen him as anxious and worried as this. He snapped his head from side to side, seemingly looking for options or another exit he could tow her into. He still wasn't giving up the option of taking her back to the Burrow.

"What the hell are you doing? We're in the middle of the battleground, Draco! There's no way you can take me back anymore! I can do this. I know I can!"

"No!" He was madly pacing back and forth now. "I need to get you out of here. I need to ensure that—"

"I want to fight with you," Hermione cried. "I need to fight with you and there's no way you're going to make me leave!"

Draco stopped pacing in an instant and just looked at her. He was breathing harshly; she could swear his sweat-covered shirt would tear any second.

The ground shook terribly and some debris fell from the dilapidated gables, but he didn't dare move. He just stood there, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. He seemed transfixed somehow, like he was seeing her for the first time.

She couldn't look away. He had the most beautiful, hypnotic eyes in the world, looking away was not an option. But it wasn't the only reason why. The very reason was the fact that he was looking at her as if she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

In that moment, she could swear she was seeing that boy she had first fallen in love with.

She felt his hands slowly touching her face and bringing her lips to his, not kissing her intensely as he did a while ago, but just merely pressing their lips together.

It was a very chaste kiss, but still…a kiss.

Just like what it had been by the pond.

Just like their first.

"I stay at the front; you stay behind me, _always_. Do you hear me?" He suddenly whispered seriously. Hermione didn't know where he was getting at, but she just nodded mutely. "Say yes, Hermione."

"Yes, Draco," she nodded even more firmly, frowning as she saw Draco taking something out from his cloak.

She gasped when she finally saw what it was. "M-My wand!"

She almost cried when she felt the vine wood and its dragon heartstring core tingling on her skin. She'd been imprisoned for almost two years inside the Malfoy Manor and it seemed like an eternity had passed since she had last felt this thing that had been a part of her life ever since she was eleven.

"Oh, Draco! Thank you!" She yelped as she embraced him tightly.

"Don't forget what we talked about, Hermione. You stay behind me no matter what! And when I'm down, I want you to run and go ahead without me, do you hear me? Remember to—"

"I won't leave you, Draco! You must get used to that idea because I am never going to leave your side. You told me once that we're a team. I'm just holding out to that promise."

"Stop being so damn stubborn, Hermione! I told you to—"

"_Furnunculus!_ _Impedimenta!"_ Hermione suddenly shouted, causing two Death Eaters to brutally be knocked back into the empty cupboards, the first victim being covered with boils as the latter freezing and fell back after his cohort. "Just shut up and fight with me!"

Draco looked affronted by his wife's blunt comment but soon regained his composure and started sending powerful hexes towards the Death Eaters who started entering the greenhouse. Hermione could swear she saw him smirking at her with a look of pride that had once been plastered on his face during the very first time he had taken her virginity and the time she had first given birth to their little Cepheus.

He looked… proud of her.

She knew he was proud of her. And this act gave her an even more incentive to fight harder.

She knew what she wanted. She had promised her sleeping little Cepheus that she would take his daddy back to him and she would, no matter what.

"Stay behind me, Hermione!" He reminded her once again as he sent another Death Eater flying into the wall. The injured party yelped in stinging pain and his extremities began swelling into morbid shapes.

For almost half an hour both successfully fought against the Death Eaters who had entered the greenhouse, with Draco sending preliminary hexes at the front and with Hermione guarding him from behind. They were a good team. It was a good tactic, a ruse in which Draco approved of, knowing well enough how protective he was when it came to his wife.

Draco was controlling the pace but the shatters and collision outside the greenhouse were making her unable to hear his instructions clearly. They had blasted a lot of Death Eaters but it seemed that they'd only been doubling in numbers.

Suddenly, a dead body materialized out of nowhere and almost hit Hermione. It was a good thing that Draco was fast enough to haul and twist her out of the way. "I told you to stay behind me! Don't stray that far!" He scolded her. Hermione could only nod. She knew never to test her husband's limits.

"Sorry about that, guys… had to blast him off," Theo unexpectedly emerged out of the smoke in the greenhouse. It appeared that he was responsible for the dead, frozen body that almost knocked Hermione off. "You okay, Mione?"

"I'm okay," she nodded fiercely, trying her best to appease Draco who was certainly livid now.

"Be fucking careful next time, Theo! You could have hit her there!" Draco shouted at the bloke who just blasted another Death Eater behind him.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Hermione screamed; hexing another Death Eater, leaving him petrified on the floor.

"That was a good shot, lassie. Dammit, you're really still as gorgeous as others say," one of the Death Eaters with long, tangled brown hair with a red streak on one side commented as he slipped inside the greenhouse. His dark plaid pants and dark boots seemed to be slightly smothered.

"Scabior," Draco's voice was lethal as he recognized him.

"Hey, mate. Long time, no see, eh? Such a shame, really. We make a good hunting pack," the older man tsked while shaking his head as if to show him how disappointed he was.

"Yeah, such a shame," Draco smirked when he saw that they now had the upper hand here. All the Death Eaters inside were on the ground, the last one standing was Scabior. He knew that Potter and the others were doing their job well outside as the number of Death Eaters rallying inside the greenhouse had greatly lessened.

Scabior seemed to recognize his demise as he alarmingly looked around, clicking his tongue in an obvious displeasure.

"Guess it's game over for you, such a shame, really," Draco smirked as they all pointed their wands towards him. "Hermione," he added, giving her the pleasure to disarm him.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Hermione shouted clearly, making Scabior's wand to fall recklessly into the ground.

Draco was about to get her from behind him when she was suddenly blasted into the wall by another lone Death Eater… Bellatrix Lestrange herself.

Draco was temporarily disturbed by the mere presence of his Aunt in the room but Theo was quick enough to hex the scoundrel back, blasting her wand off. Yet, he wasn't quick enough to catch her when she ran straight towards Hermione, who was then only recovering from her recent injury.

"Enough! Nobody move!" Bellatrix' deadly voice seemed to stop everything. She was gnashing her teeth, looking like someone had just done her a grave act when she looked around and noticed that all of her Death Eaters had fallen flat into the ground…

But it wasn't her lethal stare or her venomous voice that stopped Draco and Theo's frenzied dominance in the fight.

It was the fact that she had Hermione in her arms, imprisoning her while holding her short silver knife into the whimpering girl's throat.

Everyone was on the ground inside the derelict room. The only people left standing in the room were Draco, Theo, Bellatrix, Scabior and Hermione, with the latter being squeezed to death by Draco's madcap aunt.

It was like a game of chess, with a stalemate in the endgame.

Draco and Theo had the upper hand, with their wands still in their possessions. Scabior's wand was snapped in two by Hermione while Bellatrix' wand was possessed by Theo. Hermione's wand had fallen into the ground.

But the game that Draco's side was clearly winning had reached an impasse when Hermione was brutally snatched by his raging aunt, placing the blade into her throat, ready to slit her open.

It was a no-win situation.

"Drop your wands," Bellatrix said in a deadly whisper at the two men who stopped and stood frozen on the cusp of their decision. "Drop your wands if you don't want me to slit her open just to see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Draco went stiff as he stared at his wife being held by his atrocious aunt. Theo was also rooted to the spot, still clutching his wand, not knowing what to do.

They _had_ it. Both Bellatrix and Scabior were now empty handed and they _just knew_ they had it, but their success was premature. They couldn't win; not when Hermione's life was on the line.

"I said drop them!" Bellatrix shouted louder while pressing the blade into Hermione's throat, making her skin yield small droplets of blood.

"Dammit! Drop the wands, Theo," Draco cursed while dropping his own wand into the floor when he noticed the painful beads of blood coming out from Hermione's assaulted skin. Theo had no choice but to do the same as he hesitantly dropped his and Bellatrix' wand.

Scabior was diabolically grinning now as he scampered to get all the discarded wands into the floor, maniacally laughing as he went to Bellatrix's side.

"You're really such a Princess, aren't you? You can control even the great Draco Malfoy's actions. But it's no wonder why everyone is pretty much crazy about you, you look and smell so delicious, so fuckable," Scabior grinned wolfishly at Hermione, sniffing her like an addict before softly wiping her silent tears away with his finger and ever so slowly placing it on his own mouth, sucking her tears as if it was ambrosia to him.

"Don't. Fucking. Dare. Touch. Her." Draco warned through gritted teeth, visibly shaking in fury but staying as still and as calm as possible.

"Do you really think you can get away with this, Draco? I am so disappointed in you. You threw away _everything_. You turned your back on us, your own family. You turned your back on the Dark Lord, himself… all for this insignificant, filthy mudblood slut!" Bellatrix shrieked in outrage, placing more pressure on the whimpering girl's throat.

"Let's get this over with," Draco told her firmly, trying his very best to hide his anxiousness at the blade that was slithering along Hermione's flesh. He could see her trying to gain control from the pain. The blood from her neck had started to trickle to the floor. "The Dark Lord wants _me_. He only wants _me_. Leave her out of this, Aunt Bella."

"Why the bloody fuck would I do that?" Bellatrix was laughing madly now. "Why the hell would I do that when I can just kill your little mudblood now?"

"If you kill her, _you_ will regret it," Draco whispered seriously, each word from his lips screamed terror and demise. "I promise you will, Aunt Bella. I have killed people, tortured them to their blood-spattered death. You don't know the power that I possess now because of that maniac you call your lord. He taught me things. And I will use it on _you_. I will stop at _nothing_. However, if you let her go… I will resign myself to you. Give her to Theo, and then you'll have me. You can do anything you want. _Just let her go._"

"I-I don't believe this," Bellatrix whispered, almost laughing disbelievingly, looking at her nephew as if he was truly insane. "You can't possibly be serious? She is a mudblood, Draco!"

"Let her go, Aunt Bella. You can count on my word. Give her to Theo, and I'll surrender myself. You can kill me right here. Don't you want that? You'll have your glory with the Dark Lord," Draco told her firmly.

Theo was clenching and unclenching his hands in serious panic now. The knife on Hermione's neck was slowly descending even more into her flesh. He looked at Draco and was astounded at just how much control he really had in his expressions. Draco looked incredibly calm, as if he was in control of everything even. He had both his hands behind his back and Theo saw how they were visibly shaking…

In that moment, Theo couldn't help but be in awe of Draco Malfoy himself

They were trapped.

Draco _knew _he didn't have the upper hand here, but he acted as if he had something that his Aunt needed, and not the other way around… to ensure that Hermione was safe above all.

"Think about it, Aunt Bella. As you've said, she's just a mudblood, an inferior. She is not a threat to you. Let her go… and I won't fight you. I will give myself up. The Dark Lord wants me dead above all. Don't you want to please him?"

"No! Draco, don't do it, please just—uummpphh!" Hermione sewed her eyes shut as the blade went deeper into her skin, drawing out more blood. The pain was too much; she could swear it even hurt to breathe. All she could feel was the cold, scraping, excruciating wrench from the silver knife.

Theo could see Draco's shaking hands closing themselves in agony behind him; his knuckles were as pale as his hair now from the pressure. But he stayed unyielding in his place, looking at his aunt with the most unbending expression in the world. "Last chance, Aunt Bella. Take your pick."

Bellatrix seemed to bite the bait and was becoming confused and agitated now, her eyes jumping from Draco to Theo to Scabior and back to Draco again. Everyone knew how the Dark Lord wanted Draco Malfoy dead, and surely if she was to kill him, she could have his greatest favor above all.

"Please Draco, don't do this! Please…" Hermione pleaded but Draco just shook his head and smiled gently at her. He took a few steps forward, raising both his hands in surrender as Scabior lunged into him, swiftly placing him in a full body-bind curse.

He was still smiling peacefully even if the invisible ropes were starting to scrape his skin as Scabior had used too much pressure to intently hurt him. "You know I am capable of unbinding this, Aunt Bella. Let her go, and I won't do anything. _You have my word_," he told his Aunt calmly as if he was just chatting with her during their afternoon tea.

Bellatrix looked conflicted. They obviously had the upper hand. Theo had no wand. Draco was wandless and harmless as well and was being held and bound with the curse by Scabior. Why would she even bother to let the mudblood go when she had the both of them?

But then again, this was Draco Malfoy, the Dark Lord's apprentice…

"Let her go and you'll have your glory. I won't try anything. You have my word. _Just let my wife go…_"

Bellatrix finally screamed in frustration, brutally pushing the girl away. Theo lunged, instantly running to catch her. Hermione's breathing was constricted as she coughed nonstop into his arms, almost passing out with the amount of oxygen and blood wasted from her body.

Despite her wretched state, however, she was still able to turn around and plead for Draco. "No! Draco! Please!" She cried harder as she tried to get out of Theo's arms to run back towards her bound husband. She was thrashing so wildly that Theo needed to wrap his arms around her to restrain her.

"Princess, stop crying now, okay? It's alright, it really is. They can't hurt you anymore. I promise." Draco was still smiling soothingly at her, despite the fact that the invisible ropes around his body were starting to morbidly sink into his flesh. Drops of bright blood were starting to trickle down his once pale skin, it hurt even to watch. Hermione cried harder for him.

"You're a disappointment, Draco. You just gave up your life for _trash_," Bellatrix scoffed at him, her wand slowly pointing to him a few meters away as Scabior held him in place. "Now, look at you. You're about to die without a single honor left. Worse, I have to do it. You're family, but you were disowned from the moment you turned your back on us. There are so many women in this world better than she is, you could have had more if you wanted to. But you decided to choose dirt."

"I can, Aunt Bella," Draco nodded as he turned to look at his seething aunt. "But then, I'd be like you, or Mother, or Father… because none of them is Hermione, none of them will ever be Hermione."

"_One, two, three…" _

_Hermione held her breath as she adjusted herself into the branch of tree she was hiding herself with. They were playing hide and seek and she hadn't won for a while. She was tired of being 'it' and it was only from pure luck that she was able to find Draco inside his hiding place which was why she was given the opportunity to hide this time. _

_But she'd been 'it' for hours and she was so sick and tired of it._

_Both Adrian and Draco were just too good at this and she needed to step her game up. She gasped as she heard that Draco was finally done with his counting. He was critically surveying the place now, looking for her and Adrian._

_Wherever Adrian was, she clearly didn't know. Her brother was just too good at this game._

_She suddenly gasped when all of a sudden, Draco looked up and his eyes met hers. _

_Hermione was so sure she was found again and she would have to endure being 'it'. Before she could step out of her hiding place however, Draco ran away. She was sure her friend was going to tap the tree trunk that he had been counting at to declare her obvious demise when suddenly, she saw him running the opposite way. _

"_Adrian! Gotcha!" She heard Draco's voice boom from the distance and she scampered down her tree for Draco's home tree in order to save her own little self._

_She had just tapped its trunk when she heard both boys running towards her. Draco was screaming for Adrian's downfall and was obviously happy with his victory. _

"_Adrian! You're 'it' now!" Draco laughed evilly at the frowning boy._

"_How did you get here?" Adrian asked Hermione, bewildered that his little sister had won over him. _

"_Well obviously because she's better at hiding than you are," Draco rolled his eyes while pulling Hermione next to him. The little girl was confused but happy at the same time. Maybe Draco really didn't see her after all! _

"_Fine," Adrian sighed as he leaned towards the tree and covered his eyes to start counting._

_Hermione felt Draco's hand pulling her with him as they ran towards the bushes. _

_When she asked him that afternoon if he really did see her in her hiding spot, he denied it. _

_And she actually believed it through the years._

But right now, right in this moment, she knew that he actually lied to her…

Draco… her slow dying flower.

He was a scared boy.

He was haunted by harsh memories from his childhood but he had tried so hard to fight them.

He wanted to get out.

It was the truth he was hiding and the lie he was showing.

It was dangerous to venture the labyrinth of his heart, but along the way, he was actually trying to open it for her.

And maybe that was one of the many reasons why she had come to love this man.

It was because of his loneliness. It was because of those beautiful, lonely eyes.

And he really did see her on that tree…

Looking at him now, bloodied and bruised, stripped away from his ego, _for her_… she couldn't help but love him more. If it was even possible to love a person twice as much, then this was it.

He was a powerful man.

They had had the upper hand. He could have just let them kill her and get it over with.

If there was anything that her husband really prided, though, it was the fact that he was always in control, he always won. He hated being under anyone's order. He hated being weak and constrained. He hated giving up.

But he did it. He just so willingly fed himself to those Death Eaters; let them restrain him without even giving a fight.

_For her._

It was always _for her._

"Please! Let him go! Take me instead!" She was practically screaming now and it hurt so badly knowing that the wound on her neck was still bleeding, but no one was listening. Theo was still holding her tightly; she wanted to kick him out. She couldn't give Draco up. She couldn't give _this_ up. She came here to get her husband back and she had promised her little baby at home that he would have his daddy back when he wakes up.

"Let me go, Theo! Just—"

"You're always so defiant, Princess. Didn't I tell you not to cry, anymore?" Draco tsked. "Take care of her, Theo. I know you will. I know that—"

"No! Stop! Don't do this to me right now, Draco. Don't you dare…" Hermione shook her head in frustration now, wailing in endless solitude.

But Draco wasn't listening. He was just smiling. He was beautiful when he smiled.

"You know, the first time I ever saw you dancing in the great hall, I said to myself that I'd give up anything in this world to keep this girl. I don't care what the world sees. I didn't redeem myself so I could please them. I did all this for you. I don't care about how they'll remember me, just as long as you'll remember that I love you. You could be on the other side, I could be on one, but it will always be us at the end anyway. We will still always be together. Don't forget that, Princess. That's my pinky promise to you, remember?"

"_Well, it's when two people interlock their pinkies together, and then, a person makes an unbreakable promise to the other. If a pinky promise is broken, then a person can't make any more pinky promises forever, until they can make it all up to the person they made the pinky promise with."_

_"But like a faerie, Graham said that Malfoy has weakness as well, though he wouldn't really tell me, so I read about it and found out about the fae's weakness. It is because of a broken heart. The euphemistically wee folk would often fall in love with mortals, those who are not their kind. They die of broken hearts. You can see it on their chests. When they die, the spot where the heart is placed turns black, as well as the veins that surround it, and they die with grief-stricken but devoted eyes, and then there are always tears. Tears can never be absent. And they just die, right there. Despite their power and supremacy, they just die, just like that… for a mere mortal."_

"Dracooo!"

The last thing she saw was the familiar flash of green light before Theo pushed her away to the ground.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls (in this moment, this is just the perfect song)**

* * *

**A/N:**

**Again, many thanks to my super awesome, amazing, perfect beta: EchoDeltaNine! You're the BEST. :D**

**Please forgive me for an unforgivable late chapter BUT this took some time because I actually re-read all the chapters. Yes, from start to finish before going through and finishing this chapter up. It was very difficult for me. This is probably the most difficult chapter I've written in this story yet. I was about to pull my hair out in frustration just to get this together, then had to cry silly after finishing and reading it again. I was practically crawling and struggling on the floor (in my head, lol) while writing this. **

**Sorry for the cliffhanger! But I have intended to place that last line for so long. I'm leaving you the will to interpret it. Questions will be answered by the next chapter itself.**

**Thanks for everything! Have a blessed day.**

**Love, Sue**


	49. Stay Like This

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

"**Stay Like This"**

* * *

**Night of 5****th**** June 1998 to dawn of 6****th**** June 1998**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Scotland**

The hard pulverized bricks pounded into her body as she went face first to the ground after she was harshly pushed away by Theo.

She never thought it was possible to experience a great deal of things in a single moment.

In that very second, the place had suddenly exploded as if it was about to collapse, glints and flashes of lights blasting at different angles. People on their side started to flood inside, instantly hounding on the two death-eaters, imprisoning them in deadly bindings.

Every part of her hurt and her vision was starting to haze from all the smoke and blood in the place. Just then, a slab of furniture went flying in her direction, it battered her body at the same time due to the collision of the greenhouse.

Her head was profusely bleeding as she fought to move. She was starting to lose consciousness but she just couldn't allow it to happen. She couldn't see anything but blazes of light, fire and pieces of ramshackle furniture.

She was crawling as if her body had been paralyzed. It hurt to move but she knew she just had to see her husband. The noise was horrible as she closed her eyes to gain composure to continue crawling. She could taste the metallic bitterness of her blood mixing with her tears.

Maybe tears and blood were made to be salty and bitter. They symbolize loneliness and death…

Death.

She'd just seen the death curse being casted by Bellatrix Lestrange while pointing her wand directly at her husband.

She cried harder as she remembered her sleeping baby at the Burrow, for everything that was said and done, for the love she could never let go but could never keep at the same time.

This just couldn't end this way.

They'd been through so much and maybe she'd really die without him. She wouldn't be able to make it without her husband.

"Draco!" Her knees felt weak as she coughed because of the soot and smoke that was entering her nose and throat. She could barely move and breathe but she knew she had to move.

"Draco!" She cried harder despite the painful noise, still not giving up as she tried her hardest to locate the position that her husband was being held by Scabior before the Aurors seized the latter. The collision had blurred everything but she could swear she had one last glimpse of him before Bellatrix had let go of the death curse, aiming it straight at his heart.

No. No. NO!

"It didn't happen. It didn't happen, Draco. You _can't_ leave me!" She cried as she literally hauled the huge cauldrons and tables out of the way, pushing every single person away just so she could stagger into the place she believed her husband was blasted into.

It was when she suddenly saw _them_.

Draco wasn't alone.

Just a few meters away from him was another body.

Hermione trembled as she slowly turned the person with all her might to face him.

Amidst of all the screams and explosions, she could hear herself whisper as she placed a trembling hand on her opened mouth. "T-Theo…"

It took her a long time to process everything, too long even to remember the occurrence before her.

Fat, painful tears came rolling nonstop down her cheeks as she realized what this man had just done.

He was smiling peacefully at her. But she could see the remnants of the glowing green light just between his shoulder blades. It was slowly eating him away. "I-I tried to push Draco away from the fucking spell, didn't know it would accidentally hit me on my shoulder. W-Well, that sucks, yeah?"

"Theo! Listen to me, y-you can survive this, okay? It didn't hit you straight on, I-I'm sure we can still try to do something about it. Just hang on," She was crying and babbling nonsense now. She knew it was no use. She knew it was the death curse, whether or not it had only barely hit him. It still did. The death curse was a curse that could never be blocked. It was so powerful that it could render its target dead in a single second. She knew Theo was still able to breathe only because it didn't hit him point-blank, but it still passed right into his skin by his shoulder and any second now, it would swallow him and he'd just die. He'd be unmarked, but dead.

"Don't cry, Mione," Theo smiled at her. The green veins of the death curse were crawling right into his heart. His trembling hand was trying its hardest to reach out and touch her cheek. He was too weak to even move. Hermione held it tightly and placed it on her tear-stained cheek as she cried for him.

"Theo, please..." She was crying so hard she could hardly breathe. She didn't even know what she was asking him for.

"D-Do you remember… w-when you asked me to stay away from you because you said you were complicated and I told you that I wanted to complicate things?" He grinned at her as if he wasn't dying. "Damn, you really are, you know? You're right. You're the most complicated puzzle in this world. But I wouldn't change a thing, because whether you liked it or not, I still got to kiss you on that Christmas party."

"How can you talk about things like that in times like this?" Hermione was still crying nonstop, holding him like she was afraid he'd just slip away from her in a single second.

Theo just laughed weakly. "You're always so cute, you know? Can you smile for me, please? Come on. Give a dying man his last wish, will you?"

"T-Theo…"

"Please, Hermione," he smiled gently at her. And though still crying she nodded and smiled before kissing him on his forehead.

"Ah… You really have the most beautiful smile in the world. I wouldn't mind dying with that as the last sight. I know that we can never be together, but live your life with Draco and be happy. Always be happy, because it is something that I love about you. I love your laughter, your smile. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever witnessed and I'm grateful that you allowed me to be a part of your life even for just a while. You're so kind and so compassionate and so beautiful. You can change anything you touch to be better. You're just so immaculately good that you can affect and alter even the person with the darkest past. I love you. Stay like this, Mione… Stay like this," he smiled one last time before his hand finally fell from her cheek.

_"You are difficult," Theo frowned at her as if she was an abstract art to behold. He seemed to really believe she would consider his offer and not just walk away. Well, his pride had clearly damaged even his sanity._

_"Glad you know. I complicate things. And you'll just be wasting your time, so it's best for you to leave," Hermione nodded, now looking directly at him, daring him to oppose the fact she had just stated. She wasn't playing games here, and she certainly didn't need anyone to play it for her._

_"I think… I'd like to complicate things a bit," he suddenly said quietly, which made her look up at him in scrutiny. Was he serious?_

_"W-Why?" She asked. She really couldn't think of a valid reason why someone like Theodore Nott, a pompous, rich, arrogant pureblood would ever waste his time for a __mudblood __like her. Draco never did, and he was supposed to be in love with her._

_"Are you really that bored?" She couldn't help but add that question. She couldn't think of any convincing reason, really._

_Theo smirked. "No. It's just because, I think that you're worth it."_

…

_What's this?" Hermione asked, looking around uncomfortably as they had gathered a large audience now. They just couldn't believe that a Slytherin would give a mudblood some flowers. Some were even waiting for a serious prank to ensue, but alas for them, it never happened._

_"__I'm giving you flowers," Theo shrugged._

_"__Why?"She frowned at him._

_"__Because you're pretty today," he smiled._

_"__Is this your lame start, then?" She asked, crossing her arms while giving him a look of appraisal._

_"__Maybe," he shrugged again. "But even if it isn't, I'm still giving you flowers because you're beautiful. And men give their ladies flowers."_

_"__I'm not your lady," she told him defensively._

_"__I know that, too. But I can still give you some, because as I said… you're beautiful," he winked at her and then did the unthinkable by kissing her cheek gently._

_It was so sweet, so slow, so… charming, that she even forgot to step away._

_"__Stay like this,"__he whispered at her, before walking away._

_**"**__**Stay like this."**_

Theo…

She cried as she gently closed his eyes. He was unmoving, lifeless… gone. But she would forever treasure all the things that he had done for her.

He had saved her, countless of times. And the scars on his neck were just some of the indications of what this man really did for her. He risked his life to save her from that burning fiendfyre when she was screaming for someone else's name. She gently placed her hand on them, caressing the beautiful taints that she would be forever indebted with.

"Thank you, Theo. Don't worry, I promise I won't give up. Your death will never be in vain," she cried as she bent down to kiss his lips one last time before she started crawling and towing away some fallen debris to get to another body just a few meters away from him.

She wanted to stay there, in his arms, wanted to cry and embrace him until everything was over. But she knew she just couldn't stay and give up. He risked his life so she could live hers. She would never let him down.

"Draco!" She cried harder as she finally saw her husband, splayed across the floor but fighting his way towards her when he heard her voice. Her whole body wanted to sag and wilt right there, but she knew she needed to keep on moving. She had promised Theo she wouldn't give up, and so with all her might, she tottered and stumbled towards her husband, embracing him too tightly as if it was the only way to continue surviving.

"H-Hermione, a-are you okay? S-Stay close to me," Draco stammered as he held her protectively in his arms. He was bloodied and his injuries were countless compared to hers. But his will and resolve was still as strong as ever. "Where is Theo? H-He just pushed me to the ground and—"

"H-He's gone, Draco," she couldn't help but cry harder into his arms. She felt safer there. Draco didn't say anything and just held her tighter. He looked shocked as he finally turned his head towards the deceased body just meters away from them.

"Fuck… Theo," Draco whispered in a stunned, shaky voice as he processed what had just happened. He stared at his dead friend, before finally summoning the strength that was left of him to stand and pull Hermione up next to him. He had his lips pursed in great determination as if making sure to fulfill the promise he had just made to his departed friend. "Right. We need to _move_, Hermione. Hold my hand. We'll survive this. You and I, Hermione, we're a team, okay? Just like what I always said. We can make it, _you and I_."

And then, they were running again.

* * *

Vertigo was starting to creep in on her as she looked around and processed what was happening. Her head was still buried in Draco's chest as they ran into the Great Hall, bloodied and dirty.

The ground inexorably shook as more people rallied inside. They were shouting and chanting, sending enchantments into the fallen sky. The battle cry dominated the whole castle.

In that single moment, it seemed that her sight, her hearing, her senses, her body… were split into millions of pieces as almost all things happened at once.

The war cries from inside the forsaken place dominated even more, as over the screams and roars of the people rallying for the lives that were robbed, were the creatures of the magical world itself.

There were winged creatures as she and Draco looked up into the broken crystals of the roof of the forsaken fortress. Hundreds of Hippogriffs were flying. Beyond them were gargantuan, powerful Palomino Abraxans, which were a breed of winged horses which Hermione remembered to be the ones that pulled the Beauxbatons carriages as they traveled to Hogwarts for the Triwizard tournament.

Gigantic black spiders, the Acromantulas, from the forbidden forest were also greatly suspended along the walls of the citadel. Cornish pixies were everywhere, scattering and shrieking in glee. The chameleon ghouls who used to just watch and pretend to be suits of armors around the castle were now very much alive as they marched in triumph.

The brick walls were already shattered down and they could see the house-elves swarming into the premises of the castle grounds along with stampeding centaurs and giants. Thundering growls and cries were taking over the shattered place.

Hermione raised her dirt-covered hand to shade her eyes from the blinding but beautiful beams of the sun coming from the broken windows and the ousted rooftops.

It was finally dawn.

The time that decrees the beginning of twilight before the sun rises to its full length.

The weak sunlight was there. And it was never dusk, it was never darker, as the sun started to shine through the broken, devastated place.

_The sky looked the same during dawn and dusk, after all, like those sheets of parchments that looked the same, smelled the same. But they were never made to tell the same stories._

But here it was. Here was the real dawn as sprinkles of Tyndall effects scattered along hers and Draco's skin, its particles looking like the littlest of fairies.

And beyond its beauty and the blessing it gave, just at the doorstep, was Harry Potter… scarred, injured, bloodied and wounded beyond belief, but phenomenally alive.

He had a smile of triumph on his face as he looked up to witness the beautiful crack of dawn. The sky was now a color of stunning red. It wasn't bloody any longer. It was just dazzling, just like that of his Ginny's hair, the girl he had sworn to avenge and love forever.

He looked at the couple with sparkling unshed tears in his eyes. "I couldn't have done this without you," he whispered. "We have fought hard. He's gone. It's over."

Harry Potter was the boy-who-lived after all.

* * *

**21****st**** September 1998, start of autumn**

**Godric's Hollow Graveyard, **

**West Country of England**

Little Cepheus squirmed and wriggled in delight as he played with a single white rose given to him by his mummy. His daddy had gotten it from the beautiful bouquet and plucked its stem along with the thorns before giving it to his mummy so she could hand it to him. He looked really taken by the single blossom, tweaking and poking it with his tiny little hands in delight as his mummy lovingly kissed his soft blond hair.

The whole bouquet was for his Uncle Theo, but his parents just couldn't help but to give him everything he demanded.

"You really like that flower, huh, Ceph?" Draco smiled as he gently squeezed his son's chin. The little bugger giggled a bit but then later on ignored him as he continued playing with his new rose in Hermione's caring arms.

Little Cepheus had many layers of clothing, with a cute blue hat and little boots to protect him from the autumn wind. Beside his parents was his classy, exclusively and specially made pushchair that they rarely even used. Little Cepheus always wanted to be in his mummy's or daddy's arms.

For the first time in months, they were finally able to visit Theo again. Everything went by so fast and everyone was too busy. The Wizarding world was still trying to crawl back into the normalcy of life after Voldemort's fall. Everything was a mess but the people left behind were all eager to start anew and to rebuild what was left.

Theo was buried in Godric Hollow's local cemetery because the graves of the legendary Peverell, Dumbledore, and Potter families were all located here as well. Draco thought it suited him best for being a hero. They had a small ceremony in this place and many people came to pay him honor.

"I'm sure Theo wouldn't mind if he's missing a single flower," Hermione smiled as she looked up at her loving husband and back to the recently built sepulcher which was covered by melancholic leaves of autumn.

Hermione quietly waved her wand and the leaves instantly were blown away by the gentle whirl of wind.

"There, Theo. I hope you like the roses," Hermione smiled and hugged little Cepheus as Draco kneeled down to place the beautiful bouquet of fresh white roses right beside his sepulcher.

"He is a great man," Draco nodded as he went beside his family, holding Hermione by the waist and kissing sweet little Cepheus' cheek. "Without him, I'd probably been drowned in my own darkness, selfishly keeping you safe with me for the wrong reasons. But Theo… he's a brave man. He's the only one who was brave enough to challenge me, to wake me up. He didn't even think twice when he came barging into our lair, demanding me to tell him what I truly am. He saved me… twice. And for that I am eternally grateful."

Hermione nodded as she buried her face in her husband's chest, along with Cepheus who seemed to love the sheltered closeness in between his loving parents.

Once a leaf had finally been unfastened from its master on the windy and lonesome days of autumn, one would think that its journey was over. It would land on the cold grounds and would join the others.

This was their fate, after all. But then, this was everyone's fate.

Those banished leaves of autumn would stay and wait, though they knew from the very start that they would all wait in vain. For when the right time comes, they would all disappear and vanish into nothingness. They would soon be part of the very soil that they had once looked down when they were young, when love was young and when breathing and dancing was possible. The hue and the color of life was vivid in their very veins. They were swayed by the winds, touched by the rain, witnessed by the stars.

But nothing is ever forever, and soon, when the right season comes, it will all be over.

But it is what it is for everyone else.

Realizing something and taking it in is as hard as giving. If you can't give, then, you will never be able to realize that it's only when you give that you take in something.

Theo was a wishing leaf.

He was one of those few which were caught by those little children on the midst of the autumn glory, hoping they could whisper their heart's desires into them.

Hermione was the little child, and Theo was her wishing leaf. He loved her so much that he was willing to fall from that tree, from his perfect haven and sanctuary, from the very source of his life, just to grant her that blissful wish.

He was willing to die just to make her happy.

Now he's just one of those songs in a memory.

But Draco and Hermione knew that he would be one of those songs that are never forgotten, a well-loved legend.

Deep, sophisticated cuts were drawn upon the headstone's surface made of white marble:

_Thedore Nott_

_27th October 1980 – 6th __June 1998_

"_Sacrificing for love is as miraculous as love itself."_

In the cold, beautiful wind of September, as those autumn leaves fell to the ground, a couple stood by the sepulcher along with their little child.

Little Cepheus let go of the single, slightly rumpled rose and it went straight to Theo's grave.

Those leaves that were once so green and young were nothing now but dried, withered shadows of what they were once. It doesn't matter where they came from, whether they came from the strongest of trees or from those who were weak enough to be swayed into the ground. None of those well bred, preserved garden flowers can be better than those wild ones when they all drop into the humble ground.

It doesn't really matter if one has the best quill or parchments, or just a single chalk and charcoal to write into the stone when they all have the same stories to tell. Colors and hues don't matter. Neither do expensive pearls and diamonds, or dresses and hats and shoes…

Where you came from doesn't matter, really.

Your blood doesn't matter.

Nothing really matters when you're in love.

This is just what it all really means.

This is the real beauty of love.

And that's what really matters most.

* * *

**Song for this chapter: "My Immortal" by Evanescence (This is for you, Theo)**

* * *

**A/N:**

***Sniff* NO! I refuse to write the 'fin' word because I still have an epilogue coming! My beta reader told me that my ending was a little bit anticlimatic and I agree, but I made it that way because I still have my epilogue to _really_ end and seal everything, and partly because I'm still in the phase of denial that I really need to let this story go.**

**Of course, first off, all my love goes to the awesome ****EchoDeltaNine, the best beta reader in the world, ever. :D **

**And oh goshhh, this is hard. I couldn't even let Theo go. I had to stop typing when he was about to die. I came to love his character so much and I was crying when he died. But I knew he did it to prove how much he loved Hermione. He's a hero. I love him so much.**

**I've asked you guys to interpret that last line from Chapter 48 and was so psyched to know if anyone of you could figure it out. The ones who actually got it right are readers: PuppyBoink, Amelia Raihan and aaliyah5509. Good job you guys! **

**Anyway, I can't even **_**believe**_** that this is it! I keep on having denials here. And as I said, I'm not even going to write the 'fin' word because I know I still have an epilogue coming for the next chapter, in which I'm almost done writing. It's so hard to let this story go. But I know, eventually, I have to move on. I can't even thank enough all those people who stuck with me. I'll be working hard to give you guys a really good epilogue. Thank you so much. I love you, you must know! And also, thank you for also supporting my newest story "Somebody That She Used to Know". The initial reactions and comments are so good! I'm so thrilled reading them! I'm really so excited for it! It will be updated after my epilogue of "Almost Perfect, Almost Yours" and I'm really hoping you'll support it just as you did with this story. **

**God bless you all!**

**Sweet kisses from Sue**


	50. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.**

**ALMOST PERFECT ALMOST YOURS**

**EPILOGUE**

* * *

_**Lily Evans: "Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?"**_

_**Severus Snape: "No. It doesn't make any difference."**_

_**- JK Rowling**_

* * *

**Muggle world, St. James's Park**

**City of Westminster, Central London**

**Summer, 2009**

It was a beautiful summer day.

This was just one of Hermione's favorite times of the year. She was seated on one of the park's benches, leaning slightly next to her ever-protective husband as they watched their son, Cepheus, running along with his playmates.

The couple looked good, and it was probably an understatement.

They were _gorgeous_ together, sitting there on one of the benches and unaware of the secret flashes from the furtive paparazzi from the Wizarding world taking their pictures together to be printed in Witch Weekly, The Daily Prophet and other magazines. They were considered a 'celebrity couple'. Their second wedding set on an enchanted lake at Le Château d'Esclimont, France, had set forth headlines and had been named as the wedding of the century.

Draco looked like a male model in his muggle clothes, with his sunglasses on and a pastel-shaded tartan shirt. He paired it up with drawstring shorts and woven slip-on shoes. The muggle ladies along the park couldn't help but look straight his way, wondering if he was indeed a celebrity or an incarnation from one of the pages of their magazines. One could never miss the look of disappointment and jealousy from their faces when they'd turn their gazes at the beautiful woman he was currently cuddling with.

Hermione was wearing a classic and feminine crisscross floral summer dress, with a soft halter neckline and a flirty, flared skirt. Her long tresses were beautifully braided to the side. She looked so young and too pretty to even be called a mother, and with her new baby along the way, she was glowing in happiness. She wasn't showing yet and the guys along the park couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty, though they couldn't really approach her as she was obviously besotted with her husband.

Hermione sighed as she looked up at Draco and contentedly smiled at him when he kissed her temple and rubbed her still flat belly. She was only a month gone with their second but Draco had been acting like she was the most pristine, most brittle and frailest glass in the whole world.

Draco was still impossibly and ridiculously possessive of his wife, especially when other men would throw her appreciative looks wherever she'd go. People were often shocked whenever she'd tell them that she already had an eleven-year-old son when she looked so young, but then again, Cepheus was conceived when she was only seventeen.

Once, Draco had gone berserk over a certain issue from one of the Wizarding world's famous magazines, with Hermione wearing a very revealing bikini on the cover. It was secretly taken by some of the magazine's paparazzi on their vacation at Copacabana Beach in Rio de Janeiro. The article talked about the Malfoys and their vacation. It was a fairly good article about their family, with some great pictures of them together, enjoying the beautiful beach. What irked Draco was the fact that they had the gall to place one of Hermione's bikini pictures on the cover itself, and the fact that his employees seemed to enjoy it too much. The said magazine was sued and had to issue a public apology to the Malfoys.

It had taken eleven years before she got pregnant again. She had pleaded to her husband over and over again for another child but he'd been too stubborn, making sure to cast a contraceptive spell on her womb every night. He still hadn't gotten over her last struggle while in labor with Cepheus and he told her he didn't want it to happen again.

He had tried to distract her by diverting her attention to other things, such as bringing her and Cepheus to different beautiful countries for vacations and even allowing her to pursue her career as a Senior Personnel of the Department of International Magical Cooperation mainly at the International Magical Trading Standards Body. This had also greatly helped a lot in the Malfoy Enterprises in which Draco was the head and managing director, seeing that the company also practiced a lot of importing and trading practices in different countries in and outside of Europe.

Hermione had also been kept busy translating "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" from the original that was written in runes. When she had expressed interest in it, Draco had given his full support. He became the benefactor and had paid for everything, from its publication to its distribution.

Hermione was kept busy by her career and family, but during Cepheus' eleventh birthday just last February, she had expressed her wish of adding another child to Draco once again. Cepheus was finally going to enter Hogwarts this September and Hermione was still emotional about the idea.

After much cajoling and wheedling, he finally agreed, but not before calling for the family obstetrician to ensure her safety in her future pregnancy. The healer assured them that with proper care and a stress free environment, Hermione would be able to deliver without any complication this time, taking into consideration the fact that she had conceived Cepheus in the middle of a war and she wasn't exactly in the best position that time.

Months after that, she was successfully a healthy expecting mother.

And now, Draco was overreacting.

He just wouldn't let her out of his sight whenever he could help it. She even needed to temporarily suspend her job at the Ministry just to appease him. It was a good thing that she still had her writing career, which she had pursued after the successful release of her translated and revised children's classic of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard".

"Careful, Ceph!" Hermione gently reminded her little son when she saw him carelessly jumping around the ornamental shrubberies and borders throughout the park with his muggle friends. Cepheus stopped and grinned toothily at her, before running around again, looking more and more like rebellious Draco himself when he was younger.

Little Cepheus loved the park so much.

His parents would often take him here on the weekends. He already had a lot of regular friends who were always coming here during the weekends with their families as well. They would often lark about the playground, and be photographed alongside the resident colony of pelicans by the side of the St. James's Park Lake. The Malfoy Manor already had a lot of those, but Cepheus preferred taking his pictures with them along with his friends. Plus, the park had a lot of geese and ducks and songbirds as well.

Every June, they'd always see the eighteenth century parade, where traditional ceremonies were held, such as 'Beating Retreat' and 'Trooping the Colour'. It was Cepheus' favorite time, save for Christmas of course.

Sometimes, the family would just walk hand in hand at the Blue Bridge as they'd look at the view of the Buckingham Palace with its beautiful foliage and fountains. Most of the time, they'd enjoy their time at the Refreshment cabins or just eat ice creams by the lakeside.

"This is my secret weekend park with Adrian and Father before," Hermione smiled as she leaned closer to her husband whose arms were warmly wrapped around her. "It's so surreal that I'm always here now, you know."

"Well, then, it's not so secret now, is it?" Draco smiled. "This place is special to me as well." He kissed the side of her lips before smiling at her again. "This is where your parents met the Puceys, remember? The very reason why we met when we were younger at the Pucey manor in the first place…"

Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, you were such a brat before."

"But adorable," Draco smirked which made her giggle even more.

Years before, the topic would have conjured a lot of painful memories. But everything was just so different now.

Everything started to heal when Hermione had that talk with Lady Petrova. It was months after the tragic battle at Hogwarts. During the war, the Puceys, together with Nanny Demelza and Aunt Genevieve, were all relocated by Draco's men to help them escape the Dark Lord's ruling commands to all Pureblood families inside Europe. They were transferred and housed at one of the Black distant properties in Saint Petersburg, a federal city of Russia. The mansion was owned by Draco's mother who was descended from the noble and most ancient house of Black.

Hermione finally had a talk with her pseudo mother, who had cried in shame as the younger brunette embraced her. Lady Petrova expressed how sorry she was at the girl and that without her no one in her family could have been living right in that moment.

"_You are a true angel of this family, Hermione. I've always known but never understood. But you were sent to us to save us. You_ _saved us. You will always be my daughter no matter what. I have never told you this, but please know… that I loved you. I love you and I will always do. I am so sorry for what I have done, for taking you away from your real family. And I might be selfish in saying this, but you know, taking you away from them and raising you as my daughter is the best decision I've ever made in my life. You're the best thing that has ever happened to this family." _

The older woman held Hermione in her arms, an act Hermione had craved ever since she was little, and finally, after all these years, her mother had told her that she loved her… It was a very emotional confrontation, but it changed everything for the better. She started calling her 'mother' again. She loved her and no matter what happened, she would always play a big part of her life.

The Puceys now lived a simple life at their old mansion, the only possession they had that was saved during their fall from the pureblood hierarchy. They finally knew that Hermione was the anonymous benefactor behind it by passing the money she had gotten from the jewels and trinkets she had secretly sold behind her husband's back through Snape before, in which Hermione had confessed to Draco later. He didn't mind. They were still her family no matter what and he didn't blame her for looking out for their welfare.

Draco knew that Mr. Pucey was a very peaceful man who loved music, so he bought a music shop that was owned by old Mr. Dominic Maestro at Hogsmeade Village. Mr. Maestro wanted to retire but didn't have any children to pass his business on to so he decided to sell his music shop to live a quiet life by the country. Draco gave him more money than he needed and bought the shop for Mr. Pucey on his birthday.

Hermione had cried in happiness. She loved her pseudo father so much and she knew just how much the old man adored music. She had always played the piano for him when she was younger, whenever he was tired from work. The music shop now served as a simple treasure and the source of income of the old couple. Every now and then Hermione and Cepheus would visit the place. Mr. Pucey loved teaching Cepheus a lot of instruments just like he did to Hermione.

Aunt Genevieve was still peacefully living in France with her new husband, Healer Guillot de Vouges, who was also a widower like her. It was amazing how his presence made her believe in love once again. Draco, Hermione and Cepheus visited her home a couple of times. She was still the daunting, aristocratic Aunt Genevieve whom Hermione had known, but she was significantly happier now than she was before. Hermione guessed love could do that to people.

Adrian now had a good Quidditch career. After being in the reserve team for _The Ballycastle Bats_, the second most successful team of the British and Irish League, he finally received good graces from the team and after years of hard work, he earned the spot of being Captain. He was now dating a sweet Irish sports journalist in whom he met at the homeland of his lineup. She was one of the official press officers for the team. They'd been together for three years and he was planning to propose to her at Christmas this year, which they would be spending at Northern Ireland together with her family.

After the war, the Grangers, whose memories were modified and who were in Australia, were taken back after Draco and Hermione found them and reversed the charm. They had forgiven Draco for everything and had accepted him as their son-in-law. Draco, Hermione and Cepheus would often spend their time at the Granger residence during weekends after their visit at the park. The Grangers adored their only grandson and Cepheus equally loved them back, especially his grandpa, who would often treat him out for muggle movies and at those muggle arcades he enjoyed so much.

Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, died during the final battle. He was found struggling to save his wife, Narcissa Malfoy. She was placed at the fourth floor of St. Mungo's for almost three years before she survived her injuries and depression of her husband's death. She was saved from a sentence in Azakaban with the help of Draco and for the reason that she was never a Death Eater herself.

Through the years, with little Cepheus in the picture, Narcissa garnered a certain closeness with Hermione and both ladies often shared a comfortable chat and tea times at the Manor whenever Draco was at work. Sometimes, both ladies would find themselves shopping for clothes for Cepheus at 'Twilfit and Tattings' and 'Madam Malkin's' in Diagon Alley. Their love for Draco and Cepheus was their strongest connection. And when Draco and Hermione announced to her that they were expecting another child, Narcissa had burst into tears of happiness as she hugged both her children in motherly love.

Nanny Demelza was now living in the Malfoy Manor as Cepheus' nursemaid. The little boy loved her so much. She also became Narcissa's good friend and constant companion whenever Draco took Hermione and Cepheus out for vacations. He loved touring his little family around the world, especially when taking them on a cruise.

Ron ended up with Katie Bell, his former Gryffindor Quidditch teammate. Katie was a year older than he was, but because of the fact that Katie spent about six months in the hospital to recover from the cursed necklace that Draco had accidentally given her in his attempt to kill Dumbledore, she was forced to repeat her seventh year, thus being in Ron's year when she returned to Hogwarts for their NEWTS level. Both played as chasers for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and were later on reunited again when they both played as Chasers for the _Chudley Cannons._ The team wasn't as popular or as dominant as Adrian's team_, _but it served well when sparks started to fly between the two.

Harry was now considered a legendary hero. He was also the well-respected head Auror and his name and face was now popping out on almost all Chocolate Frog Cards. He was considered a celebrity in the Wizarding world. His name and reputation attracted a lot of famous, beautiful women, but he remained single nonetheless. His heart still remained with Ginny and he would even often visit her parents at the Burrow whenever he had time to spare from his demanding life. Hermione wished that someday, he'd finally realize that Ginny just really wanted him to be happy above all. But she knew that she would always be there for her friend no matter what he would decide in the future.

Professor Snape was now the new headmaster of Hogwarts after Professor McGonagall's retirement. He was considered one of those legendary war heroes as well and his face would also often pop out on Chocolate Frog Cards; as often as Harry's and Draco's, much to his bitter revulsion.

Tracey Davis eventually married her long-time boyfriend, Poliakoff, who was the Durmstrang student she met during the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts. Daphne and Pansy never believed they would last for even a week before; now they already had two lovely children. Pansy was divorced twice but was now happily married to her third husband, an Italian model named Massimo. She was the happiest whenever she was with him. When people ask her about her past divorces, she'd just casually shrug and say, _"Well, third time's the charm." _

Hermione, together with Nesha, would have lunch dates with Tracey, Daphne and Pansy sometimes. It was amazing how people, no matter how bitchy they really were, could grow old and realize that they really weren't cut out to be all that. Maturity had taken its peak with the girls and they'd often laugh at how stupid they really were before. They had asked for forgiveness to what they'd done and Hermione forgave them. She knew that Ginny was watching over them somewhere, and wherever she was, she was happy as well. Hermione also made sure to visit Theo and talk to him every now and then. Every year, they would go to Godric's Hollow to visit him on his death anniversary. He was now also considered one of the war heroes. His name and deed were written in the latest revised edition of 'Hogwarts, A History'.

"I see you guys are always the earliest here."

Hermione and Draco looked around them and smiled when they saw Blaise and Daphne Zabini with their little son, Rainieri. He was a year younger than Cepheus, and like Blaise was to Draco, he was fiercely loyal to Cepheus. It was quite amusing for Hermione as Cepheus' name was derived from the word 'king', while 'Rainieri' was an Italian name that was derived from 'Rainer' which means 'counselor'.

In everything that they did, Cepheus, being older, was always at command while his best friend Rain would happily follow him around. Cepheus, although incredibly independent and insightful, also liked to listen to what Rain had to say. They made a good team together, like a king with his counselor.

"Rain!" Cepheus shouted happily as he ran towards his best friend. Both did their secret handshake, which consisted of hand slapping and silly banging sounds, before bursting out in loud laughter. "You're late! We already had three games and I won all of them because I'm the best!" Cepheus bragged, puffing his chest out in confidence.

"I saw that little stunt you did with the shrubberies, Ceph. Please be careful next time, okay?" Hermione told her son while pulling him with her so she could wipe his back.

"I'm sorry, Mummy," Cepheus grinned at her before hugging her around the waist. Cepheus wasn't very friendly with the adults, but he loved his parents, most especially his mummy.

"Listen to your mum, Ceph. I told you she's in a very delicate condition now. You can't have her worry like that," Draco reminded his son. The little boy straightened up and nodded. He looked up to his daddy so much and he wanted to be like him when he grew up.

"Yes, sir!" Cepheus grinned while saluting to his daddy.

Draco smiled as he ruffled his son's blond hair. "That's my boy."

"Draco, I'm only a month gone. I'm not ailing or something," Hermione scolded her husband lightly before lovingly pressing their lips together. Draco smirked and responded with a deep searing kiss.

"Eew!" Cepheus grimaced, followed by Rain who pretty much hated seeing the adults kiss in front of him. His mum and dad always did that too.

Cepheus and Rain were like brothers with _very_ different features. Cepheus had his own exquisiteness and splendor that was close to a greek god. He was a handsome eleven-year-old boy. He got his father's blond hair and pale complexion. He also had those beautiful hypnotic electric blue-grey eyes, but had their gentle, beautiful shape from his mother. He also had his father's perfectly sculpted nose and his mother's rosy, kissable lips. He was proud, confident and sly like Draco, but also incredibly intelligent and perceptive like Hermione. No one could really resist him. He was very manipulative and he could pretty much get anything he wanted.

Rain was a mixture of both his parents' beauty. He was slender and slightly willowy, with Blaise' black velvety hair, in contrast to Daphne's blonde tresses. He had high cheekbones, long slanting eyes and a vaguely tanned skin. He looked immaculately Italian. People were sure that when he grew old, he'd be a heartbreaker. He was very competitive like Cepheus as well, but was often calmer than his blond friend.

For their parents, they were perfect.

"When will Bea come here?" Cepheus suddenly asked.

As if on cue, another family was seen walking towards them. It was Graham Montague and his wife, Nesha. Their child, sweet little Beatrice, was walking delicately behind her mother. She was always a shy little girl and she would always hide behind her mother's skirt.

"Bea!" Both Ceph and Rain ran towards the cute little girl, who seemed to light up when she saw her friends. Beatrice was three years younger than Cepheus and two years younger than Rainiere but the trio loved each other's company, it was always so difficult to separate them when the day was over.

"We were just talking about you. What took you so long? We need to play now. I already played three games and I won them all!" Cepheus told Beatrice gleefully, retelling what he had just boasted to Rain earlier.

"Oh wow! You won every single one of them?" Bea gushed out loud. She was very quiet around people, but she was always comfortable whenever her best friends were around.

"Of course I did!" Cepheus nodded with pride, looking a little pink when Bea's eyes lit up in admiration towards his accomplishment.

"Well, I could have won them too if I was here earlier," Rain suddenly muttered, noticing Bea's reaction just like Cepheus was.

"Of course you could have, Rain. You and Ceph are always the best at everything," Bea nodded toward her other friend.

"Come on, you both! Let's go play!" Cepheus suddenly shouted while pulling the girl with him so they could run towards the other kids in the park.

"Hey! Wait up!" Rain shouted as he ran after them and struggled so he could get a hold of Bea's other hand.

Draco shook his head in laughter. If there was anyone who could ever make Ceph and Rain compete against each other, it would be little Beatrice. She was an adorable pretty little girl, not as beautiful as his little Hermione when they were younger of course, but she was certainly a pretty sight. She had long, coffee tresses that dangled like magical waves along her shoulder and back. She was a whimsical, little thing, with soft little freckles on her nose that complemented her sun-kissed face. There was no wonder Montague was very protective of her.

He watched as the three ran around the park with their muggle friends, Rain and Ceph laughing on either side of little Bea, holding each of her hands.

He smiled as he stared at Cepheus' blond hair and Bea's brown curly ones bouncing along as she ran. They looked so much like he did with Hermione when they were young. It was quite amusing to watch.

"Draco?" Hermione frowned in curiosity as she looked up at him and followed his gaze.

"Hmm?" He asked, kissing and smelling her hair lovingly.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Because I love you," he smirked down at her as she kissed his chin. Hermione chuckled at his statement but sighed and scooted closer to him.

They were quiet for a while as they stared at the children. Blaise and Daphne settled at one of the benches near them while Graham and Nesha sat on a soft little picnic mat they had brought with them.

"Draco?" Hermione asked again after a long comfortable silence.

"What is it, my princess?"

"Do you think… do you think we would have had still fallen in love with each other even when the Puceys didn't kidnap me from my real parents? I mean, I'd be muggleborn at your sight and you'd never really make friends with me," she told him inquisitively.

Draco frowned and kissed her again, gathering her closer into his arms as he did so, as if afraid someone would take her away from him. "Why are you asking me that, Princess?"

"I'm just curious," Hermione shrugged as she played with his fingers.

"Well, I was such a little horror before," Draco grimaced. "I think you wouldn't like me one bit, and we would have fought a lot. But I really think I'd still harbor a little crush on you. Who wouldn't? I mean, you were the cutest little thing."

"Would you act on your little crush then?" Hermione chuckled as she watched him bring her hand to his lips and delicately kissed her fingers.

"Maybe yes, maybe not," he shrugged. "But I think in the end, I would have had given it all up just to have you," he whispered before kissing her temple.

"Why?" Hermione whispered, tilting her head a little to look back at him.

"Because you're my princess," he whispered softly into her ear. "And like I said, I love you."

"I love you too, Draco," she smiled as she moved a little to retrieve something from her handbag.

Draco frowned curiously as he stared at the familiar object that Hermione was now holding. He gasped when he finally recognized it. "Is that… Mr. Bear?"

"I saw him inside your closet once, during the time I stayed inside the manor because of the war. He was tattered and threadbare then, so I decided to fix him," Hermione chortled softly when she saw Draco's stunned expression and slightly opened mouth.

"I-I don't even know what to say… Father threw out all my toys when I turned sixteen, the time when I was to choose my fiancée. He told me that at my age, it is ridiculous to keep anything childish such as toys. I didn't mind, except the fact that I couldn't let go of Mr. Bear. As silly as that sounds, he'd been my security blanket ever since I could even remember. I didn't want to let go of him so I secretly hid him inside one of my closets. A lot of things happened after that and I forgot about him," Draco told his wife.

"Well, here he is," Hermione whispered while gently pushing her husband's hair back. She loved feeling it sliding in between her fingers. She then pouted her lips and playfully changed her pitch like that of a little child. "Hello, Mr. Draco. I'm back, and I have eyes now too. Ms. Hermione bought them from Diagon Alley and sewed them on my face. She made sure it didn't hurt, don't worry. And they're blue like yours. See?"

Draco chuckled while rubbing his neck guiltily. "I brutally poked his eyes out before, the time when Adrian won that Quidditch game and you got angry at me when I called him stupid. You left me by the pond and my little self was devastated. I threw Mr. Bear at the wall too. Poor little thing, I was such a horror." Draco shook his head while holding and gently squeezing his old stuffed toy. Mr. Bear looked smaller around his hands now than what it looked like when he was still a little boy, or maybe just because little Draco was a grown man now.

Hermione smiled as she slowly looked up at him. "I remember. I was so angry at you that time, but I didn't know Mr. Bear had to suffer as well. But he's all well now, you see. He's all fixed."

"Thanks to you he's all fixed and happy," Draco nodded. "You fixed him, just like you fixed me…" He whispered lovingly before kissing her.

"You were everything to me even when we were younger," Hermione whispered behind fluttering eyes. "Those two weeks… I wouldn't trade them for anything in this world."

"It was the best two weeks of my life," Draco smiled.

Hermione smiled back wistfully. "Remember the time when I would get food at those formal meals and you'd get the same one and double it, just so I could secretly laugh at your amusing antic? And you'd sneak inside my room to give me cookies because Mother forbade the elves to give me some. We'd play hide and seek whenever the moon was bright. You'd run around the gardens with me on your back so I could pretend I was flying because I was always too afraid to ride Adrian's broom."

"And then we'd sneak out to play under the rain," Draco added while smiling pensively. "We'd run around the woods and eat wild berries, blueberries and nectars from flowers. You taught me that. During those windy afternoons, we'd scatter those pesky dandelions around just because you said they looked like little pixies. You'd accidentally tear your dresses, those fluffy velvety ones, because we'd climb on trees, and jump around the wild shrubberies."

"Mother was so angry at me when she first saw me with my torn dresses," Hermione laughed thoughtfully. "But somehow, we'd always get away with it."

"We'd read together, and draw and paint together. You loved those stories with happy endings and I promised that I'd give those happy endings to you," Draco added while smiling longingly.

"You already did, Draco. Every day is a happy ending to me now," Hermione beamed as she laid her head on his chest.

Draco smiled and held her even closer. "Everything was so simple back then, but it was the world to me. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, Hermione."

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me too," Hermione whispered while kissing his chin softly. "I was so sad when you went away. I cried so hard," she pouted playfully at him.

"I hated it when you cry… So then I had to kiss you," Draco chuckled while kissing her forehead lovingly. "Man, was I such a nervous kid that time."

"It was our first kiss," Hermione giggled. "It was perfect, though."

"Because you're perfect," Draco whispered with a smile.

"No one's perfect, Draco," Hermione reminded him.

He leaned down to stare unwaveringly at her. He raised his hand to slowly brush his fingertip towards her temple, going down to her cheek and finally to her lips. "As far as I know, you're _perfect_ and you're _mine_," He whispered before cupping her cheeks, her big brown eyes were looking up at him with so much innocence and beauty that he suddenly couldn't help but bend forward and press his lips to hers, just like what his little self did by the pond. "And _almost_ perfect is never going to do you any justice."

And then they kissed, just like it was their first.

**_-FIN-_**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**THANK YOU!**

**I just HAVE to thank you.**

**To my readers, to those who read, 'favorited' and reviewed this story: Thank you! **

**Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and for continuing on reading even if I love placing a lot of cliffies (lol) and even if I'm unreasonably late in updating sometimes. **

**To the people who've been with me from the very start, thank you so much! I love you guys! I have nothing but gratitude and love for all of you. **

**To those people who sent me songs to listen for inspiration, thank you all so much. They mean so much to me and you helped a lot, like seriously! To my critics, thank you for making me learn a lot and for pushing me to be better.**

**To those who told me that they have cried a lot from this story, sorry and thank you! That is pretty much a satisfaction to me that I can at least share the emotions in here to you. So I'm so sorry for making you cry, but I sadistically thank you for doing so. :)**

**To the ever talented and famous Dramione artist from Russia: DoberAnts26 (I love her! I'm a fan! And I'm just so lucky to be her friend!), thank you so much for making a trailer for this story. That was just urrgghh, amazingly PERFECT. To those who haven't seen it yet, please do. It's at YouTube. Just type: 'Almost Perfect, Almost Yours' (Dramione fanfic trailer). I love it so much! I was literally shaking when she first sent it to me!**

**To Natalie1012, thank you for translating this story in Chinese! That's just super cool!**

**To my past beta reader, Miss Elizabeth12, who first proofread my story from chapters 1-10, thank you so much for all your hard work, hun! We lost any communications later so I don't know if you're still in the site but thank you so much for everything.**

**To my current beta reader, EchoDeltaNine, urrrghh! I don't want to let go of you! You're too perfect; I can't even believe I met you! Thank you so much for helping me with all my typographical, grammatical and sentence structure errors. I'm really usually blind in my mistakes even if I'd read it over and over again, it's abnormally frustrating! And I'm so glad you're there to help me point out my mistakes before I publish it in public. Thank you!**

**It's so hard for me to let this go, but I'm just so excited for my next project: "Somebody That She Used to Know", in which I am proud to have positive feedbacks from my readers on its very first chapter! **

**And my story "She's Just Not Into You" is nearing its own 1K line. Four reviewers more for the big 1k, people! And I just received a message that my story "Just So You Know" is going to be turned into audiobooks! I'm so excited to hear the whole performance of it!**

**Thank you all and Cheers to our Dramione goodness. I love you!**

**God bless you always!**

**I'm hopeful that I'll see you in my next story!**

**PS: Draco and Hermione's second child is a beautiful baby girl! And yes, they lived happily ever after, just like what little Draco promised. **

**Love, Sue**


End file.
